


Brave New World, Book 3: Keys of Fate

by MoonFox



Series: Brave New World [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Merlin (TV), Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFox/pseuds/MoonFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Knights of the Round Table come together, Arthur has to re-evaluate his thinking, and Merlin has to acknowledge there is something stirring inside of him that affects his own health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Nance and IcarusLSU for beta reading for errors and flow. All remaining mistakes are my own.

 

  
****Brave New World, Part 3: Keys of Fate:** **

**** ** **

* * *

_I raise my flags, don my clothes_  
It's a revolution, I suppose  
We're painted red to fit right in  
All systems go, the sun hasn't died  
Deep in my bones, straight from inside  
I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones  
Enough to make my systems blow  
Welcome to the new age...

_"Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons_

* * *

_1500 years ago..._

"It is done." The dark-haired woman stated. Other beings of light gathered around and seemed satisfied. "Moros and the weapon he was working on have been dealt with." What she didn't tell the other Ascended beings was that, while she had destroyed the sword in the laboratory under the hill of Glastonbury...she had not destroyed Moros, nor had she removed all traces of the research. It was not their place to interfere, nor to create any semblance of weapons, on their path to higher enlightenment. After seeing the reason Moros was working in secret, Ganos Lal began to understand why.

There was no reason to suspect that the Ori would find this galaxy. They had taken measures before the Ori and the Alterans had split their culture; each on their own journey to Ascension, to protect this place from them. It was to be a final sanctuary to the greatest race the universe would have ever known. Unfortunately, some of the humans had gained enough power, and had slaughtered nearly all who remained of the proud race.

She left, feeling a sense of guilt wash over her. The last remnants of anything that could destroy the Ori, if they ever discovered this place...were now gone.

"...Not as gone as you might think." Someone said, as if reading her thoughts.

Ganos Lal chided herself. She was usually much more cautious about guarding her thoughts. She turned towards the voice. While their Ascended form had no actual substance, she could see the echo of his former body in her mind. His black hair, dark eyes, and easy smile put to rest any fears that she might be discovered.

"I know I am new to this form, and being among your people, but I witnessed glimpses of the future, when I stepped through the Veil between worlds. The storm will gather, and precautions must be taken to stop it."

"We are not like the Ori. We cannot interfere in the lives of those who have yet to reach Enlightenment."

"...But, what if it means giving a chance to the ones who taught you how to Ascend in the first place?" He smiled and held his hands out to the side, or he would have, if he still had a physical body.

Ganos Lal gave him a curious look. "What do you know about them?"

"Only that there may be one who still exists."

"Impossible. The last of their kind recently perished. If only, I had not destroyed the sangraal Moros was working on..." She steeled her resolve. "...but the specimen he had was tainted. If I did not get rid of it, and someone found it..."

"What if I told you, I know where a similar item is, but without the taint of darkness of the one Moros was working on."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. Had anyone else said that to her, she would have thought it was a trick to reveal her true feelings on the matter. "If it is true...then it must be found and..."

"Protected?"

"There is no way we would be able to guard such a secret, without the Others finding out."

The Ascended man began moving away. "I knew a man, once. A good man...honorable and noble. He was touched by the magic of something the druids of this world called the 'Cup of Life.'"

"The druids are wise for ones so young. The Nox did well in teaching them how to use the items they needed. But, I don't see how that could help us now."

He shrugged, "They are the Guardians of many items of power, as a friend once taught me."

Ganos Lal glanced around and moved closer to him, as if to whisper, although they needed no voices to communicate. "Tell me what you know, Lancelot."

* * *

 

Bodies littered the field. Blood ran together. Gauls and Brits...there was nothing to differentiate between the two. Nothing was in the rivers of red, flowing and swirling, unending across the plains of the foreign land, to say 'This was my comrade,' or 'That was my enemy.' Even the cloaks they wore...the tabards and tunic over their chests...showed only the color of blood.

The flags and banners were ripped and shredded. Scavengers feasted on the rotting flesh. 'They should be feasting on me,' he thought. Slowly, he rolled himself over to face the sky. A shadow fell across him.

"Lancelot?" He knew in that moment that he had died. The blond warrior expected...he wasn't sure what he expected when he met his final battle...but the stench of the corpses and the blood on his face, were not among those thoughts. "Have you come to guide me?"

"Yes, my friend...Just not to where you expect."

Leon gasped at his former comrade, thinking for a brief moment about the traitor he knew, when he last saw the man. "Merlin told me...years later, that it wasn't your choice."

Lancelot shook his head, and watched the knight rise to his feet. He turned and began walking away. Leon thought it strange how Lancelot glided, more than walked. The dead man's clothing stayed unsoiled, as he passed among the fallen.

"Do you still believe in Arthur, the Round Table, and what it all stood for?"

"Always." Leon responded without hesitation.

"Will you still be able to hold that faith in a time so far into the future, you can't even imagine it?"

Leon stopped, and gazed upon his friend. "I once told Arthur, I would ride into the Mouth of Hell for him."

"That is what you may need to do. First, however, you must find the sangraal."

"The Cup of Life?" He asked, thinking this was some form of trickery. The moment the doubt entered his mind, however, it was gone. Deep inside, he knew what the other man spoke, was true.

Lancelot chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down Leon's spine. "Things are not meant quite as literal as they seem. The Cup is safe. What you must find, is the other piece of the puzzle. For every chalice among those who seek balance, there is an opposing force."

The blond knight pondered the riddle. After the king had fallen at Camlann, and Leon had learned the truth about Merlin, he became more intrigued by the world of the druids. They had healed him with the Cup of Life, and afterwards he had wanted to know more. In their sacred rituals, they always had a bowl, or a cup, to symbolize the feminine aspect of the world...a balance to the blades with which men used to fight. "Arthur's sword."

"Find it. Protect it...until he returns...though the wait may be long."

"I'll have Merlin show..."

"No. I'm sorry, my friend, but this is a journey you must make alone. More may be at stake than you could ever imagine. Merlin, has his own path he must follow."

He drew a breath through his nose, and immediately regretted it. The sun had risen high, and the stench of the fallen assaulted him. He pushed passed the sudden nausea. "Very well."

He found himself standing beside a lake, months after his conversation with Lancelot's spirit. His hair and beard had grown out, until he resembled a hermit in the mountains, rather than a groomed noble. His clothing and armor were in serious disrepair. Leon had taken care to avoid running across anyone he knew, or who might recognize him, as per Lancelot's instructions. He questioned his sanity quite often, but something in his heart kept him believing in the Sacred Quest.

The overcast sky of winter threatened to be his doom, if he stayed out in the elements much longer. White-capped waves danced over the surface of the once serene water. He took a step towards the edge, wondering how he was supposed to retrieve a sword from its depths.

Thunder crashed in the clouds above. Lightning lit the area. He shielded his eyes from the blinding strikes.

When he opened them, a sword, untouched by the passage of time in the depths of the water, had washed up upon the rocks at his feet.

He bent to retrieve it and was immediately engulfed in a sparkling cascade of light. It was as if the Heavens had awoken and were shining down on him in the middle of the storm, offering him their blessing. Leon closed his eyes in reverence.

The sounds of the maelstrom quieted around him. The air felt warm and inviting. His breath, for the first time in years, came smooth and clean, without the stench of war or funeral pyres.

Blue-gray eyes opened, and he gasped in shock, falling backwards, when he tripped over his own feet. A creature stood before him. Large black eyes blinked slowly. The frail body was naked, but yet held no discernable hint as to its gender. A sizable egg-shaped head, with no real nose, had only two tiny gaps for nostrils above a slit for a mouth. Its ears resembled acorn caps more than anything else. A spindly hand, with webbing between the fingers, motioned for him to follow.

"Come, Sir Leon, Knight of the Round Table, you have much to learn for your journey. I am Heimdall, of the Asgard High Council." The voice sounded metallic and strained, but Leon decided it was more feminine than anything else.

A million questions raced through his mind, and he couldn't seem to settled on a particular one to ask.

Heimdall blinked at him again. "I will try to answer as much as I can. I was asked, by a very old friend, to assist you at the beginning of your journey. The rest will be up to you."


	2. Chapter 2

_BAM! Bambambambambambambambam!_

The gunshots rang out through the concrete bunker in quick succession. There was a click and pause, as the slide locked back; signalling that the chamber was completely empty. A thumb deftly released the lock, allowing the clip to fall into his hand. He placed both pieces on the shelf in front of him, that separated him from the long corridor towards the target. Stepping away, he allowed the short, black-haired, Welsh woman to move forward.

Curling her tongue, she played with it against her teeth, and flipped the switch to the mechanism that brought the paper target towards the cubicle, where they stood.

"Oooh!" She said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. Through the yellow-tinted safety goggles, Gwen was able to see the tight grouping on the two-dimensional man. "Perce...this is nice...very nice, indeed!"

Percival beamed at the compliment. He had to admit, he was quite enjoying the modern weaponry. Thanks to Arthur's rigorous training, the knight had become quite proficient with the crossbow, during his years in Camelot. Although getting used to the recoil of the guns took a few sessions, it was an easy transition to figure out how to aim the firearm.

After Merlin's wedding, the large man had flatly refused to board an airplane...and Merlin had rather quickly put his foot down regarding teleporting him everywhere. Through Mickey Smith and Captain Harkness, he was offered a job at Torchwood. They had set him up with everything he needed to get started in this new world, including replacing the identification that the SGC had provided him, with something of their own.

_"...Not that we don't trust the American government. Well, I don't...but that's beside the point!" Jack had laughed, with his own American-style accent. It was the easy-going laugh of a man who seemed to truly enjoy his life._

Although the large man and Jack Harkness had gotten off to a rocky start, the flirtatious leader of Torchwood was actually a rather decent man...once you saw past the bravado and teasing. If you argued or appeared disgusted, the teasing became relentless. However, playing along, or even ignoring Jack, typically caused him to move onto other things.

Once Percival actually arrived at the underground Torchwood Hub, he was introduced to the other two members of the team. Ianto Jones appeared to be the main force of coordination for the group. He was a sharply dressed man, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. A few years older than Percival, his main job was to ensure communication among the teammates ran smoothly. Ianto was soft-spoken and kind. He always had a fresh pot of coffee, tea, or Percival's favorite...hot apple cider...ready for when they returned. He always wore a freshly pressed suit and tie. Well, almost always...

Percival found out first hand, and quite by accident, when he arrived at the Hub early one day, that Ianto was Jack's boyfriend. When he interrupted, what Jack hastily explained, was a game of "Naked Hide-and-seek," the sixth-century man was certain he was scarred for life.

The blond knight discovered through the other member of Torchwood, Gwen Cooper, that Jack was actually a time-traveller from the fifty-first century, and was currently stuck in the twenty-first. He wondered if he could even begin to imagine that far into the future. Meanwhile, Mickey spoke up and told him that there really wasn't anything special about it; a few more aliens, a lot more people, and robots that ran spaceships with fireplaces linked to the eighteenth century, as their power supply. Percival couldn't tell if Mickey was trying to pull one over on him.*

Gwen was, by far, the only sane one of the bunch, in his opinion. Her pale skin, dark hair, and common Welsh accent, made her the closest thing he had experienced to his home century. She took to him immediately, bringing him under her wing like a baby brother. Even her husband, Rhys, welcomed the displaced man into the fold easily...especially after he found out about Percival knocking Jack flat during a wedding. Rhys beamed triumphantly at his wife in an 'I told you so' manner, which Percival later found out was because the Welshman had done the same to Jack during his and Gwen's wedding.

It was an easier transition into this new world and lifestyle than he had expected it to be at first, although his grip on modern vernacular still remained rather inconsistent. His new friends went out of their way to laugh with him and assist him, in any way they could, including teaching him how to drive a vehicle. He, in turn, told them about his old life, and began teaching them the basics of sword fighting. Mickey had cleared out the living room in his flat to give Percival a place to stay in town, even though the large man often found himself heading out towards Camelot to ground himself, and to escape the constant noise of the city of Cardiff.

He talked to Gwaine and Merlin often, and learned how to use the video chats, so he could see their faces. Merlin had moved to be with his wife in a city called New York, and Gwaine kept his job in the underground mountain military base to be close to his own family. Aside from a couple of all too brief trips by Merlin to the UK, the three hadn't seen each other face-to-face since the wedding.

Percival pushed the feelings of loss aside. In his life, he'd witnessed enough grief to make anyone's head spin...but in the sixth century, losing those you cared for was simply a part of life. It didn't make the pain any less, but nearly everyone was brought up to expect it to happen somehow.

In his personal experience, he'd lost his family to a raid on his village at the hands of King Cenred's men. It was shortly afterwards that he met Lancelot, and that was followed by him being introduced to King Arthur. The Knights of Camelot had quickly become his second family.

Through Gwaine, into this new time, he was able to keep more than he had from his first family. In some ways, he was thankful that he and Gwaine had been taken when they were. He was unsure if he could have stayed in Camelot without Arthur on the throne. It would have been a difficult choice for any of them to make.

For all his success in adapting to the new life, he felt his heart drop when his friends called to tell him about the stasis pods that had been found. He'd learned about similar items through his Torchwood training, so they didn't need to explain to him what it meant for Arthur, or for Gwen and the child. When Merlin had asked him to begin preparing the large manor house on the old Camelot lands, he had jumped immediately to help.

He was more than grateful for his newest surrogate family during the few weeks that followed. Each and every one of them had pitched in, and helped sort things in order for the arrival of the ancient king. It was all taken care of, with time left to spare...which was part of the reason Gwen had dragged him to the firing range.

Percival looked over the paper target and smiled, "Thanks, Gwen...for everything."

She clucked her tongue against her teeth and waved his words away. "No need to thank me. You should know that by now. We're family...It's what we do. Now, what time is it?" She asked out loud, but looked down at her own watch. "We should get you on your way soon. I think we've burned up enough time to hold off the majority of the anxiety before your king arrives, eh?"

He nodded and the two of them began to clean up the area. When they were done, Percival met up with Mickey Smith, and the two of them began the drive, just after sunset, towards Camelot.

* * *

 

Steam curled around their faces from their exhaled breath. The moon lit the hill meadow, casting cool shadows through the dying grass. Twin beams from the headlights highlighted the area in front of the two men, as they waited outside the vehicle.

Each footstep sunk into the wet ground and created suction against the soles of their boots. The sound of Percival pacing and shifting his weight, was amusing at first...but after an hour of waiting, Mickey was threatening to taser the large man, just to get him to stop.

As the darker man was making his comment, the wind shifted and became a touch warmer. He pushed off the SUV that he was leaning against. "Oy, Perce...I think they're coming."

Percival ceased his anxious meandering and looked skyward. A few minutes later and a bright light engulfed the meadow. When it dissipated, a group of people stood in the once again nearly dark meadow. One man was sitting in the center of the group, in a wheelchair.

He shielded his face, covering his eyes from the glare of the lights, but Percival knew who it was. He didn't let his disappointment show. In his mind, he had always imagined Arthur standing tall and strong in his armor, if he ever saw him again. The man illuminated appeared exhausted. His eyes were rimmed with red, as if he had been recently crying. The tanned face from days of patrols and training, was pale.

Mickey said something to Merlin, which Percival barely heard, but it was enough to help him shake off the disappointment brought on by his assumptions. "My Lord!" He called out, and moved in front of Arthur. Percival dropped to his knee, uncaring about the dampness that began seeping through his jeans. He would do so on ice or sharp rocks as well; so great was his loyalty to the man who was forever his king.

* * *

"Wonder what he would do...if I started calling him 'Elvis?'"

"Probably not get the joke."

Merlin snickered at his wife. He sat on the edge of the bed,contemplating the last few weeks. It was well past midnight, when everyone in the house had finally gotten settled in, and he was enjoying the few moments of peace. He closed his eyes and hummed softly, when her delicate fingers began tracing nonsensical patterns over his back and shoulders.

"What's wrong, Merlin?"

He shook his black head of hair. "I...nothing. I think I'm just exhausted." Something was plaguing his mind, but he hadn't been able to focus long enough to deal with it. He knew it would probably be a few days before he was able to sit down and process everything. The thumbdrive sat idly in his fingers.

Martha wrapped her arms around him from behind, and rested her chin on her husband's shoulder. "What's that?"

Merlin leaned his head against hers. "Daniel gave it to me. It's some preliminary results from the blood tests and what it kicked back from their database."

"Why don't we sit down tomorrow and begin looking through it." She suggested. He seemed reluctant to put it down, so Martha plucked it from his hands and put it aside. "Leave it be for tonight, lover. I was sort of hoping we could continue our 'practice.'"

"Practice?"

Martha began kissing along the length of his neck, up to his earlobe. "We haven't had a chance to finish what we started up on that mountainside..." Her fingers threaded playfully through the dark hair on his chest.

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, his senses came alive. He felt a soft moan escape from low in his throat. "Ah, yes...That 'practice...'" He allowed himself to escape into the rise of feeling she brought him.

* * *

 

They laid together, entwined around one another; revelling in the afterglow. Merlin allowed his mind to drift in and out of a light, almost meditative, doze. Happy memories from his long life, relived themselves in his semi-conscious mind.

_"Father...tell me a story about your king?" The little fairy girl danced around the meadow. She was the splitting image of her father, with her black-as-night hair and bright blue eyes._

_"Father, I want to hear about the knights." She demanded, when he put her to bed._

_"Father, can you tell me about the time you met the Faerie Queen?" She was the apple of his eye._

_Her younger brother was more his mother's son than his. Although the boy had the same natural aptitude for magic from an early age, he was more interested in hunting and sword play. Gawain used to sit impatiently throughout his father's lessons, looking longingly out the window at the training grounds below, until Merlin relented and let the boy go play with the knights of his uncle's realm._

_Gawain had learned just enough to keep his abilities in check. Admittedly though, they weren't quite at the same level as Merlin's had been, when he was a child. Blasine had a very different temperament and constantly followed her father around; absorbing anything she could from his stories and lessons._

_He was watching her fend off advances from various knights and lords of the kingdom, when he felt an arm encircle his waist. He lifted his elbow over Mithian's head and let it rest on her shoulders._

_"Your daughter..."_

_"Our daughter." He corrected._

_She smiled and laughed, the lines around her eyes seeming more pronounced. "No, she is yours. I may have carried her in my womb, but I lay no claim to her, my Lord Husband." She joked._

_The once dark brown hair on his wife's head, was more gray than chestnut now and he felt a pang of grief, knowing that time was now against them._

_"Do not look at me like that, Merlin. I do not wish to see you mourn for me, while I am still standing by your side. I want you to promise me something."_

_He blinked and turned back to the ball. "Anything."_

_"Don't ever mourn for someone while they live. Be it myself, our children, or anyone else you may encounter. You have too much love in your heart to allow it to be occupied by grief that has yet to come. Enjoy those of us who are with you, while you have us. There has been more good than not, hasn't there?"_

_He nodded slowly. For all the heartache he had experienced...the ones he had loved, already lost...Mithian helped him to remember the happiness. The pain of losing each one lessened as the years passed, and he realised he wouldn't have traded a day of the ache for the good memories that he had made, during his twelve years in Camelot._

_"Oh, look. There is the knight from Essex we've been hearing about...Gawain's friend. Galahad, I believe his name is."_

_Merlin's eyes widened...not from knowing the knight whom his wife was indicating...but rather at what...or who...Galahad was looking. Merlin felt his wife's arm tighten around him, holding him back, when they noted their daughter smiling coyly at the knight. "I've never seen her look at a man like that. I wonder if he has bewitched her somehow."_

_Mithian released a very un-ladylike laugh. "I am certain he has done no such thing. Blasine, on the other hand..."_

_"...would never do such a thing with her gift."_

_"Perhaps not with her magic, but her beauty has certainly enchanted him, it appears."_

_Years later, he sat by the fireside in his daughter's home. Mithian had succumbed to age a few years prior, and Merlin felt like a shell of a man. He sat and watched the flames dance in the hearth. When he and Mithian first discovered his inability to age, he'd cast a curse on himself that would allow his appearance to change as if he were growing older. Merlin hadn't bothered to remove it yet._

_The wizened old man, with long white hair and beard, thought nothing of it in his grief over his lost love._

_He felt a tug on the sleeve of his robe, and looked down into shining brown eyes, surrounded by thick locks of chestnut hair._

"I was thinking..." Martha's voice seemed a bit out of place first, until he realized where he was.

"Hmm?" He asked, tightening his arm around her.

"...About what you asked me to consider."

He opened his eyes and gazed lovingly at the beautiful woman, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you really want to have children?"

_"Grandfather...can you tell me a story?"_

Merlin smiled at the memory of his granddaughter's imploring voice. "Yeah. Yes, I think I do."

* * *

 

Dinner had been cooked and eaten. Dishes were done. Toby was in his room, supposedly doing his homework, after his evil uncle had taken away the Xbox to keep him from getting distracted. The younger boys were playing out in the yard somewhere, with their toy swords. Pops had gone into town to get gas for the tractor, and to have coffee with a buddy of his at the Legion.

Gwaine flopped onto the couch, ready to relax for a couple days of downtime after the last couple of weeks.

A few hours after Arthur and Merlin's departure, his team had been sent out to a planet that recently experienced their first visit from a Prior. Following Arthur's instruction to continue his work with the SGC, Gwaine had gone through the Gate for the relatively short trip.

At first, he was sure what he saw off-world was just a symptom of his overworked brain imagining things. Then, the kid ran up to him with the coin. Not daring to chance his teammates finding out, he had stuffed it down in his pocket until after they got back to Earth, were debriefed and sent home.

He fished in his pocket for it, but came up empty-handed. Grumbling to himself, Gwaine realized it had been left in his uniform trousers...which were currently in the washing machine. His face showed his disgust at the realization and he made a mental note to get rid of the front loading machine soon. Laney was always complaining about it, and now he understood. A top loading washer could be opened anytime during its cycle, but the one he bought to go with the new house in Colorado, locked when it was in use.

He was just about to switch on the television when his mobile phone rang. He reluctantly answered it, noting the Base number that appeared as the caller identification. "Dallon."

The automated message that followed, informed him that he was being recalled to duty due to an emergency situation.

A string of curses followed the disconnection. "Toby!" Gwaine called up to his oldest nephew. "I gotta go back to work."

"Whatever."

"You can play the games on the main TV, once your homework is done. I need you keep an eye on your brothers. I'll call Pops and let him know to come on home...Think you can manage until he gets here and your mom gets home?"

The teenager came out of his room and agreed, trying not to show his enthusiasm at being left in charge. Gwaine knew that as soon as he walked out the door, the homework would be discarded, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Laney was working as a closing manager at a local grocer, and wouldn't be home for a few hours yet.

He said goodbye to Greg and Randy, ordering them both to behave and to start getting ready for bed, before calling his grandfather. He hated leaving Pops with the boys on what was supposed to be his night off from the bedtime routine duties, but the old man, being a veteran himself, understood and agreed to head back home.

The coin was forgotten for the time being, as Gwaine headed back to the SGC, where he found out that Lieutenant Fischer of the current SG-6, had been infected by an off-world virus... which was showing signs of rapid spread.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Reference to the Doctor Who episode The Girl in the Fireplace


	3. Chapter 3

For a moment, if he kept his eyes closed, he could hear the sounds of the castle as it woke.

Just for a fleeting minute, he could hear the sounds of the citadel coming to life through the thick paneled curtains.

Just for a second...he could forget where he was, and what had happened.

The ache in his chest was the first reminder that everything had changed.

Two days, he'd been in this room. His only relief from the bed was with assistance, but each day he woke, he felt a little more strength returning. The progress he had made since the surgery, was set back following his outburst against Mitchell, then the excursion to the toilet facilities. After which, a good dose of the medicines had kept him going during the short travel on board the ship, far above the world.

His eyes opened to barely a slit, and he felt...more than saw...his wife curled up next to him. Rolling carefully onto his side, he draped his arm over her sleeping form and pulled her closer.

Gwen hummed softly against his chest. "It is so hard to believe..."

"I know." He whispered against her dark curls. "I am sure I will miss the people the most. The knights I grew up with, who rode at my side for so long...but not yet."

"Hmmm. No, not yet." She said, echoing his words. "I lost nearly everything, when I lost you, Arthur." She turned her face towards his. Brown eyes, etched with lines from the two years of hardship during her time as the sole monarch of Camelot, blinked at him tearfully.

"We have been given this second chance, Guinevere." He said softly, pressing his forehead to hers. Arthur snickered deep in his chest. "Remember when I said, I would gladly become a farmer, if it meant I could be with you?"

She giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Of course. Although, I still cannot see you pushing a plow."

"Well, maybe not yet. However, once this blasted wound heals..."

Her neck arched back, when she laughed harder. "I doubt even then, my king."

"Alright, perhaps I'll learn to be a blacksmith..." He smirked and kissed her, pulling her tighter to him.

"Whatever you decide to be, in this new life, I will be at your side. We...will be at your side." She corrected, hearing the morning babbles of Aurie emanating from the crib nearby.

Arthur smiled and stretched, "I cannot wait until I can actually pick him up. Dr. Jones said, I should wait at least two more weeks for that. I'm not sure if I have enough patience, to wait that long."

Gwen pushed herself into a sitting position and reached for a robe, hanging by the side of the bed.

"Where the hell is Merlin? Shouldn't he be here with our breakfast by now?" Arthur asked seriously.

"He's not a servant anymore, Arthur. He hasn't been for a long time, I don't believe." She said in a wistful voice.

A rapping on the door preceded it opening. "Ah ha! Breakfast!"

Cassie stuck her head through the door. "Good morning!" She said in her chipper American Accent.

"Good morning, Cassie." Gwen smiled at the young woman and motioned for her to enter.

The young woman held a tray in one hand and Arthur eyed it suspiciously, knowing it was not the food he craved. "Not breakfast?" He said, disappointment dripping from his voice.

"No..." Cassie drawled out, setting the tray on the bedside table. "Close though! Morning meds, as you already know."

A few paper cups held a variety of odd-shaped, and odd colored pills. Arthur sneered at them. Since he was no longer hooked up to the needles and tubes, it was explained that he needed to take the medicine orally. "At least these are easier than the concoctions Gaius used to brew up." He had noted as well, that they appeared to work more efficiently as well, although the side effects made him feel a bit loopy.

Cassie held out one of the smaller cups and a larger glass filled with water.

"So...Merlin will be bringing my breakfast, then?" He questioned, trying not to gag against the odd texture of the medications.

"Be nice to him, Arthur." Gwen admonished, scooping up their son.

"I'm nice...I'm also hungry."

"Always thinking of your stomach." A familiar voice said in a snarky tone, from the door. "Some things will never change." Merlin sauntered into the room, holding a tray of food.

Arthur gave his wife a triumphant look, after he swallowed the last of the pills.

Merlin caught the exchange and snorted. The warlock had managed to catch the last few lines of conversation before entering. He and Arthur might have come to some form of understanding, before they left the SGC, but Merlin's nerves were still tied in knots over the whole situation.

Percival had pushed through the diversity he faced and was well on his way to becoming a modern man, with no qualms about who he served. Gwaine was dealing with his own dichotomy of the situation, and Arthur's words had appeared to have helped him make his choice. Merlin, on the other hand, had watched Arthur die...and after centuries of moving past it, he was trying to mesh who he was now, with a man he barely recalled being.

"Don't think this is going to be a regular occurrence, because it certainly will not be. Tomorrow, you can get your own arse out of that bed and join the rest of us." He seemed unable to keep the sharp tone from his voice.

Arthur scoffed, "Just open the damn curtains, Merlin."

"Open them your own bloody self! There's a remote right next to the bed." He snapped at the blond man.

"A what?"

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek and inhaled slowly through his nose. "On the table, beside the bed, is a little black box with buttons on it." He waited for the king to find it. "Now...with the little red dot at the top...see the triangle pointing to the right? Press it."

Narrowing his eyes at Merlin, Arthur wondered if this was supposed to be some sort of trick. "Alright, Merlin...I'll play your little game."

Merlin tried to cover the rolling of his eyes, by scratching at his brow. The battle within himself, was raging. The similarities in the room brought back memories of his early years of servitude, and he balked against them.

Arthur pushed the triangle. The red dot at the top lit up, and the whirl of a motor began to turn softly. His jaw fell to the floor as every piece of drapery along the wall moved of its own accord and opened. For a moment, his inner voice felt like screaming at the sorcery behind it. A giggle of delight from Aurie, calmed the panic, and Arthur remembered what had been explained to him about all this modern technology.

He looked at the device in his hand and pressed the triangle pointing in the opposite direction. The large pieces of fabric stopped and began closing. The childish cackle of glee from Arthur, was priceless.

Aurie, started to fuss as the sun began to disappear. Arthur looked over at the boy, being comforted by his mother, and pressed the first button again. The sweet bubbling laughter, that erupted upon the sun's magical return, had everyone in the room grinning. Soon the curtains were opening and closing, over and over again.

Merlin took the opportunity to slip out of the room with Cassie. "Well, how's he looking today?"

"I know Dr. Jones will want to check him over more thoroughly, but so far the change in scenery seems to be doing his mind good." Her eyes shifted down the hall and then immediately to the floor. A slight blush painting the apples of her cheeks.

Merlin's brow furrowed for a moment and he glanced behind him. Coming up the staircase at the end of the carpeted hallway, was Percival. It was discovered after their arrival, that Cassandra had been absent due to some training, when Gwaine and Percival were brought into the SGC.

The large man didn't seem to notice her reaction, as he approached. "Merlin. Cassandra." He nodded to both. "How's he doing today?"

"Good. I'm going to go take care of this tray and give Dr. Jones an update." She excused herself and stepped around the knight with a shy smile.

Merlin bit back a knowing smile. "Hey, Percival...thank you, again...for making sure the room was set up. I think, they both really appreciated the sense of familiarity it brought."

Percival grinned, "Mickey, and the rest of Torchwood, helped a lot in moving everything from the storage facility. Ianto and Gwen Cooper helped track down similar pieces that you didn't have." He fidgeted for a moment before asking, "Does he know where he is yet?"

Merlin shook his head and glanced at the door. He still hadn't figured out how he was going to tell Arthur. "I know you and Gwaine took it fairly well...but I don't know how he's going to react."

Coughing, to cover a laugh, Percival patted his friend on the back. "That was your problem before. Not trusting him...or any of us, as much as we trusted you. Funny, how some things never change."

"I'll probably wait until he at least gets settled a bit more." He rolled his eyes at the disapproving stare he gained from the knight. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You're as bad as Martha."

"I agree with her assessment this morning. You need to tell him sooner, rather than later."

"If you're so keen on it, why don't you go tell him?"

Percival shrugged and reached for the door handle. "Okay."

"Wait!" Merlin bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head. "Fine, I'll go tell him."

He punched the smaller man in the shoulder, happily. Merlin wavered slightly, and grumbled about the man's strength. Percival's smile widened.

Neither of them needed to worry about breaking the news to Arthur, however. Arthur was standing by the window, resting against his wife, who had placed their son on the floor.

"Merlin..." Arthur started, not bothering to turn around, instead just assuming it was his former servant walking through the door. A hitch in his voice told Merlin that the king already knew the answer, before he asked the question. "Where are we?"

Centuries of storms and progress had reshaped most of the countryside, but even Merlin had to admit, there was something about this area, that refused to submit to the passage of time. Though the great kingdom that once thrived on these very hills and valleys no longer existed, there was a feeling about the land that still whispered of what once was. "I think you already know."

In a trembling voice that was barely above a whisper, Gwen said, "I almost feel like I can see the castle grounds and the Lower Town beyond...still here. The forests and the meadows...the mountains over yonder...This is Camelot. This room has nearly the same view as our old one."

"I had the house designed this way, purposely. Well, at least this wing of it." Merlin and Percival stepped fully inside, and closed the door behind them.

The large knight stood back and listened, while the warlock made his way towards the king and queen.

"When you died, Arthur...I was told you would return, as you already know. Over the years, I was able to buy the land where Camelot used to be, nearly five thousand acres of park surrounding it. That was a few centuries ago, and there was nothing but ruins on the hill. It took every cent I owned at the time...and a little magical persuasion." He reluctantly admitted, "Then, slowly over the years, I've worked at building this..."

"That long...and you couldn't even manage to get the correct wall color?" Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Out of the corner of Merlin's eye, he caught the movement of the king's hand, and instinctively knew what was coming. His eyes flashed gold, creating a ripple in time. The world around him paused for a brief second; just long enough for him to step out of the way of the oncoming blow.

Arthur nearly stumbled when his hand, aimed at the back of his friend's head, hit nothing but air.

"I'll have someone bring you some paint chips, and you can paint the damn walls whatever color you like." With that, Merlin let the door swing closed behind him.

A flash of concern crossed Arthur's features, before he felt his temper beginning to rise. He had meant the color comment as a joke. One, which previously would have begun a round of friendly bantering between him and his servant. His nostrils flared, and he glared at the door.

Percival held his position, still and silent, as a dormouse. The whole time change from what he now knew was called the Dark Ages, into the modern Age of Technology, had been a real head spinner for him...but, he had Gwaine with him to help keep him anchored in the beginning. He also didn't hold any preconceptions for assuming things would be the same here.

The idea of decorating the room into a more familiar style for Arthur and Gwen's homecoming, seemed sound when Merlin first suggested it. Now, he was wondering if it had been the best thing. It almost appeared to give Arthur too much of a sense of normalcy.

Aurie began to fuss, sensitive to the tension building in the room. Gwen looked to the large knight. "Percival, would you mind taking him...maybe see if you can find Martha, or Cassie, to take care of him for a bit."

"Of course." Percival smiled, thankful for a way out of the oppressive air that permeated the room. He held out his arms for the little prince, who stared at the giant man with unbridled suspicion...until Percival crossed his eyes, and made a silly face.

The little boy giggled and clapped, obviously deciding the man was an alright sort of fellow. He willingly went into the massive arms.

When they were alone, Arthur spoke. "He vowed to me, that he would happily be my servant until the day he died. Well, he hasn't died, yet."

Gwen spun back to her husband, who had turned the rocking chair towards the window and was glaring out the window. "So...that is what this is about? Arthur...I had to go through my entire pregnancy without you. I gave birth, thinking at the time, that you would never get to meet your son. I had to sit on the throne, and govern the people of Camelot...who were just waiting for the day they could replace me with the true heir, while your chair sat empty beside me.

"I mourned you, Arthur. Every day, I mourned for you...in near silence. Only Merlin, Gaius, and Leon had a clue of what I was going through. I had no one else. It was hard for me to look at Aurlieanus some days, and not get so angry that you weren't there!"

Arthur started to say something, but Gwen held up her hands to silence him. Her voice steadied and she stood up straight, her demeanor changing to that of the queen. "Those two years...after we lost you...they changed me, Arthur. I know they did. However, it was only two years...not even that long, if you want to be precise.

"Merlin has had almost fifteen hundred years! Do you have any idea...of anything he has been through? Do you know, he has lost not one wife, but six, to the passage of time? He lost his father. He lost you. He lost me and Gaius...and his mother...his own children. He has changed. He could have easily hardened his heart against all that loss. He could have locked himself away, until the day you returned, or lost himself completely in his grief...but he didn't."

The king sighed tiredly and glanced away.

Gwen knelt in front of him, her hands on her husband's knees. "I don't know if this situation is more difficult for you, or for him. You and I have awoken into a world, unlike anything we could have ever imagined. We are both grieving for all that we have lost, but I...I had two years of the greatest loss imaginable.

"He's trying, Arthur. He is still Merlin. He is still your friend, and the fact that he has designed all of this..that he has kept what little he could of Camelot safe...attests to that fact. His memories and perception of that time have changed. We are more apt to remember the things we want, not how things really were."

Arthur snorted through a tearful expression. He silently recalled how different his father's ghost had been, from the man he thought he knew...and that was only a difference of four years. He began to really listen to what his wife was saying, "I guess he and I just need to get to know each other again, if I ever really knew him at all. He lied so much to me back then...about his magic and all that."

"Then, don't look for the man you thought he was, or the sorcerer you expect to see. See the man he is: an equal to you...your friend...not your servant, not a magic user... just...Merlin. He made that vow in his innocence. He couldn't have known the truth behind his words."

Arthur pursed his lips in thought. "I always remember it seemed quite odd, when he said it. As if he thought he was going to die that night. I know...I commented about it, and he brushed it off."

"I think you should ask him about it. Find out what he meant, or what might have happened. Take the time to open yourself up, and get to know who he truly is."

His blue eyes sparkled, as he gazed at his loving wife. Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his own. "You are an amazing woman. Well, no time like the present." He couldn't help his ornery streak in wanting to push the limits one more time. He took as deep of a breath as he could and yelled out the familiar name. "MERLIN!"

Gwen bit her lip to keep from laughing at first, when Arthur's face contorted in pain. The thought that he would injure himself, while trying to be a prat, was rather poetic. However, she noticed the pain didn't appear to be subsiding, as the king cradled his chest and curled over his legs in the rocking chair.

Smacking her lips, half in concern and half in amusement, she stood up. "I better go get Martha."

* * *

 

Mickey's coffee nearly coated the table, when he heard the voice echo through the house. "Holy shit! You weren't kidding. That bloke does have some lungs on him!"

Merlin simply took another sip out of his cup, and turned the page on the newspaper that laid in front of him. "Yes...yes, he does."

"Well, aren't you going to go see what he needs? I mean, he is still injured and all that, right?"

The warlock didn't answer. He tried to concentrate on the paper. Soon, however, his eyes lifted to meet those of his wife. He stared back at her, wondering if she had any idea what was going through her husband's mind.

Gwaine was the only one who seemed to share Merlin's fears of what was out there. Perhaps, it was because the Marine Major was in a position that put him on the front lines of the coming storm. They had spoken to Arthur about it, somewhat. However, Merlin wanted to give the displaced king a little more time to heal before laying it all out for him.

The pressure Merlin was putting on himself, was not unlike the time before, when he had kept his magic from the king. He had imagined, that after centuries of life, including almost a full one spent at a Buddhist Monastery in Tibet, would have given him the patience to deal with it.

Merlin could feel it though. What 'it' was...he wasn't sure, but it was coming.

There had always been a hole in his life, which he managed to bury far inside of him. He had hoped it would be filled upon Arthur's return, but so far, it remained. He didn't blame Arthur, but his clipped responses and tip-toeing around the heart of the matter, was becoming evident to everyone around him.

She didn't say a word to him.

"No." He responded curtly.

Martha smiled.

"No...not happening. Do you know, he just expected me to bring him breakfast this morning?...AND he wants me to change the paint color of his room. Ungrateful, that's what he is...I will not jump to his call."

A different call though, met his ears. Gwen was shouting for him through the hallways. He realized that she was probably lost in the large house, which was the close to the size of a small castle. The only room that resembled anything from Camelot, was the one she and Arthur were staying in. The rest of the place could be quite daunting to someone who had only been given a brief tour of the place. Even Merlin still found himself turned around in its corridors, from time to time.

"Damn." He folded his paper and went to look for the lost queen.

* * *

 

Arthur came to, with the sound of muffled voices in the background. They seemed far away, or as if he was trying to hear them through water. He could feel the numbness in his body from the pain medication. He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on what they were saying.

"Merlin, I think you should try." His wife's voice began to sound clear.

"After what happened during the surgery?"

The voice of Dr. Jones seemed closer than the rest. "Dr. Lam said it was more than likely the radiation that reacted. That is now completely gone from his system."

Arthur could hear the reluctance in Merlin's sigh. "I don't know...What if it wasn't?"

"I wish you would at least try." Gwen said in a motherly tone. "The sooner he gets well, the easier this could be on both of you."

Dr. Jones voice was next. "Yeah, and the sooner I can get my husband back, instead of this back and forth between a brooding old man and a skittish rabbit."

Merlin sputtered, "Rabbit?...Did you just hear that, Gwen? My own wife called me an old man and a rabbit...in the same sentence!" There was a few seconds of silence. "Both of you? Looking at me like that? Really?"

Silently, Arthur snickered. He had suspected there was something more between his former servant and the female physician who befriended his own wife. Understanding how persuasive women could be, with just a simple look, he took pity on his old friend. He forced his eyes open, "Merlin..."

Three sets of eyes turned toward him, and he evaluated each of them.

Arthur wanted to get out of the bed. He wanted to move on with this new life. He wished for nothing more than to put the past behind him, since he had no other choice. Gwen's words filtered through his mind. The friendship he had shared with Merlin was a strong one, that he felt he missed more than anything about his former life. He didn't try to see the man as he had been, although it seemed Merlin was just as stubborn as he ever had been...That hadn't changed.

Arthur tried to look at him, not as the man who used to be there, but as the man who was there. Who he saw, took the king by surprise. The fleeting glimpses he'd had in the past, of the wise and serious man who resided under the bumbling exterior, was who he was viewing now. That was the true Merlin. There was an agelessness behind the eyes, that Arthur hadn't allowed himself to see before...but yet, somehow he knew now, it had always been there...from the very first days...

'There's something about you, Merlin...'

He knew it after Camlann, but the emotions were too high at the time. The pain was too great, to fully process anything beyond the reflection on the surface and his own life.

_'There's something about your eyes...'_

The eyes were the window to the soul, or so he had heard. For the first time, he truly believed it. The soul he saw was the same, but more open and filled with the inexplicable truth. This was Merlin. This was the man who challenged him, who believed in him, who waited fifteen hundred years for him...and somehow managed to stay relatively sane.

It was too easy to fall back into old habits, when the exterior seemed overall unchanged...but as Arthur really began to look, and open his mind, he did see the changes.

Merlin had the same black hair, but it was different. It was a bit shaggier and longer, and obviously styled with more care than a quick combing could manage. The clothing was certainly modern...denim jeans that seemed to be a popular trend, and a shirt with tiny buttons down the front; the collar of which, was a bit stiff around the neck and ended in points at the man's collar bone. There was no sign of the scarf or the old ratty, roughspun tunic. Underneath the clothing, Arthur could tell the physical difference, simply in the way Merlin carried himself.

No longer did Merlin slouch. His posture and bearing wasn't that of an underfed, ill-bred peasant, but of a strong man, who could easily carry his own weight.

_'I could take you apart with one blow...'_

_'I could take you apart with less...'_

He had no doubt about that, once he found out about Merlin's magic. However, he wasn't surprised to think that now, even without the magic, Merlin might actually be a worthy opponent, or ally, in a fight. The warrior within Arthur, found himself beginning to re-evaluate the entire situation.

Merlin had been the first, and last, to call Arthur his friend in their relationship. He met Merlin's gaze, and locked him in a stare. "I trust you."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**_"Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened, but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm." - Robert Louis Stevenson_ **

* * *

He sat in a chair near the bed. His blue eyes closed as he searched his mind for the information he wanted.

"Guinevere suggested I get to know you."

"Mmm."

"Well, how can I do that, if you won't talk to me? Come on, Merlin. You never used to shut up."

"Well, I guess I finally learned how. Hey, there's something you didn't know about me." A lopsided grin covered his face.

Snorting softly, Arthur considered throwing a pillow at the other man. "The way you've been just...sitting there...it's making me nervous."

"I make you nervous?" The sapphire eyes opened and glanced at Arthur, silently laughing at the king. "I thought you didn't get nervous."

"Merlin..."

"Shut up?"

The two men looked at each other and started to chuckle. Arthur's ended in a groan of pain.

"You'll be able to laugh again soon, my friend. I promise."

"I hope so. Can I ask you a question, Merlin?"

The warlock shrugged and motioned, palm up, for the king to continue.

"Years ago, after I was bitten by that beast..."

"Which one?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn't take the bait. "You said, you would be happy to be my servant until the day you died. I never forgot that."

Merlin's smile faded as the memory returned to him. "I thought I was going to die. I had made a bargain to save your life from the fatal poison of that bite. I got you water, from the Cup of Life, which required a sacrifice of a life to maintain the balance. Instead of taking my life though, it tried to take my mother's.

"I blamed Nimueh for a long time for that, but now I realize the Old Religion couldn't take me in exchange...so it went for the closest living blood relative..."

Arthur was shaken to his core, hearing the details of what was possibly just one of many times he guessed Merlin had done such a thing for him. "We didn't find the Cup of Life until years later..."

Merlin sniggered, "Correction: YOU didn't find the Cup until years later."

"Well, if you knew where it was, why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it still existed. I thought I destroyed it, when I destroyed Nimueh."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. His lips curled up in a disbelieving sneer. "You destroyed Nimueh? Girlish little you? I could see that now, but back then?"

Ignoring the insult, Merlin asked, "Can I finish my story?"

Arthur's mouth grudgingly closed and he nodded.

"You're worse than my granddaughter was..." The warlock muttered.

"...Your granddaughter?"

Merlin's eyebrows disappeared under dark bangs. He waited for Arthur to realize he wasn't going to answer that question...yet. When he was satisfied that the king would remain quiet, Merlin continued, "Where was I?...Ah, yes. The Old Religion is based on keeping nature in balance. As my closest relative, it chose my mother, instead of me. I thought Nimueh had tricked me...but it wasn't her choice. Just like with your mother, she was the vessel who cast the spell, but was blind to the path it would ultimately take..."

"What do you mean, 'with my mother?'"

Chiding himself, Merlin pursed his lips and sighed through his nose. He decided to go for the shortened version of his story. "Anyway, I went to try and save my mother, but Gaius beat me getting to Nimueh and offered himself in exchange. I arrived just as he lay dying. Nimueh conjured a sphere of fire and threw it at me. She thought I was dead...For a moment, I thought I was too. I got back up and...felt something come over me. It was the first time I felt it..." His blue eyes seemed to cloud over, thinking about that day.

After a few moments of silence, Arthur began to worry. When Merlin finally spoke again, his voice was low and deep, as if completely caught up in the memory.

"Up until then, most of my magic had been more wind...and time based. I learned to play with the wind when I was about Aurie's age...using it to make leaves dance. If I wanted something that was out of reach, it would come to me. When I was probably four...Mother had stepped outside to get wood and left a pot of porridge on the fire. I was so hungry I tried to get some and it spilled. My instincts saved me, and I..." He tried searching his mind for the right description. "I guess, it was like a pocket of time was slowed around the hot porridge, and I managed to step out of the way."

Merlin blinked, as if waking from a dream. "Anyway, I managed to get up and kill her."

The blond man's eyes narrowed, "You left something out. What were you saying before...what did you feel?"

Frowning, Merlin scratched his head in thought. "I really can't describe what it was...or is. It's a connection to everything...to very ebb and flow of the Earth and stars. I can do something Nimueh never could. I can see the paths available to keeping balance. I don't think I even realized that, until this very moment."

"How many centuries have you been alive...and you just figured something like that out now?"

"Well, I was a little too busy for contemplation back then; with saving your sorry ass every week...on top of all the chores you used to give me."

"...And since then? What have you been doing with your life?"

Merlin shrugged, "Keeping myself occupied."

Arthur rolled his eyes and groaned at yet another thing that hadn't changed: Merlin's ability to sidestep around conversations. "You mentioned a granddaughter. So I assume you had children at some point?"

A proud smile beamed out from Merlin's face. "Yeah, two of them. Blasine and Gawain. Blasine's youngest daughter looked just like her grandmother Mithian."

"Ah, that was fortunate, I'm sure. To have your daughter marry a son of Princess Mithian." Arthur nodded, impressed that the Nemethian royal would allow her child to join that of a servant's. "It showed an open mind on her part, although I'm not sure what King Rodor would have thought about that. However, Mithian's brother was the heir to the kingdom, so I can see that marriage for political reasons wouldn't have been as important, especially with a youngest child.

"So says the king who married a maid. However, I need to correct you on your assumptions."

"Oh, I'm sure there are other details, Merlin. There always are, but they are probably relatively minor in the grand scheme of things."

"Actually, one of the 'other details' isn't that minor."

"No?"

"No." Merlin leaned towards Arthur in a conspiratorial fashion. "Blasine married Sir Galahad, a Knight of Essex, with no relations to Nemeth."

He could see the confusion in the king's face, as Arthur attempted to work out what his friend was trying to tell him. "If Princess Mithian was the grandmother of your granddaughter, but it wasn't her son who your daughter married...then...how...?" Blue eyes widened when the answer finally dawned on him. "Noooo!"

Merlin sat back with a smug look. "Yes. You aren't the only noble to have married a servant. Difference being: I was bestowed a title, before she and I even began courting."

Arthur visibly paled momentarily, before he felt the laughter bubbling up through him.

Pinching his lips, Merlin watched as the king alternated between groans of pain and his failed attempts at ceasing his laughter.

Martha walked into the room, followed by Gwen and Cassie. She shook her head. "You're going to hurt yourself worse if you keep that up."

"Merlin, I thought you were going to be working on a spell to heal him?" Gwen asked, distressed by seeing her husband still in pain, even if it was brought on by his own inability to quit laughing.

"I was...but some spoiled little prat wanted a bedtime story instead."

"...And you told him a funny one, to aggravate his wounds?" The warlock's wife accused. She moved over to the bed to check her patient.

"He did that all on his own."

"Guinevere, can you believe this idiot thinks he can get me to believe that he was granted a title AND married Princess Mithian?" Arthur still chuckled lightly, while Martha took his pulse and began her updated assessment of the incision sites.

Merlin's amused look turned dark and he shifted in his seat.

Arthur felt the change in the atmosphere and glanced at his friend in disbelief. "You were serious?"

"Yes, Arthur. I was." The lighthearted tone from the conversation was gone. Merlin continued, his voice now authoritative and strong. "After Camelot fell, Leon and I made our way to Nemeth with the remaining knights, and other refugees. King Rodor installed Leon as a commander in the Nemethian Army. He also granted me a minor title as reward for saving him and Mithian years before, and for helping to bring peace between him and Odin. I then started working with their Royal Advisor on Magic. Soon after, he retired, leaving the position on the council to me."

The king visibly gulped. He once again, witnessed the change in Merlin from friend, to the commanding man now speaking to him.

Arthur began to wonder what he would have done, had he returned to Camelot, knowing about Merlin's magic. Would he have seen this same powerful man? Would he have granted Merlin an advisory position...or, would he have tried to keep things as they had been, and missed a great opportunity to have such a strong voice at his Round Table? He made a mental note to himself again, not to underestimate his former servant in the future. The trifecta of revelations gave the king a more thorough view of Merlin. First was the much more stoic exterior he was met with in the first hours after being awoken. Then the ability to see the sinewy warrior instead of the scrawny peasant...Now the package appeared complete with Merlin's no-nonsense report of what happened after Camelot fell.

"It doesn't look like any permanent damage has been done by your outburst, Arthur. You should be grateful." Martha said, when she had finished listening to his heart and lungs.

"I am..." Arthur said, looking at Merlin and hoping his thoughts were silently conveyed. It was not only for Martha's prognosis, but also for the wake-up call he'd just received. It seemed whenever he spent time speaking with Merlin, he learned something new about the man. Finding out that it was not only his most trusted knight, but also Merlin who took the refugees to Nemeth, wasn't nearly as surprising as he thought it would be.

Merlin seemed to understand. He nodded and the tension eased.

"Merlin, are you going to be able to do the spell today?" Martha asked.

He noticed that her voice sounded slightly flustered, and wondered if something had happened that he wasn't aware of. "I should be. Why?"

"I just received a call from my superior. I'm being recalled to help prepare for a possible viral outbreak. It's only in the States, thus far, but it could reach pandemic status quickly if we're not careful. I would like to be sure the spell works before I leave."

Merlin nodded, "I'll get right on it, then." He turned to the king. "Are you sure you want me to do this? It's probably going to hurt, even with the painkillers."

* * *

 

Without the pressure of the operating theater in the foreign military base, surround by doctors and technicians all waiting to see what would happen, Merlin felt more relaxed. He didn't need to rush to save Arthur's life this time.

Martha and Cassie were nearby, ready to intervene if needed, but the warlock felt more confidence that his efforts would work this time around.

He calmed his breathing and centered his thoughts on the task at hand. In his mind's eye, he could visualize Arthur laid out on the bed before him. Arthur's life was strong and steady, emitting a golden glow. Merlin could feel the way the world balanced, and he saw Arthur's path through the web of fate.

The specifics were difficult to pick out without intense concentration, or with a catalyst like the Crystal of Neahtid, to focus his efforts...but he didn't need to waste the energy on that right now. He still took a moment to admire the beauty of the web. Arthur's own string began where his mother's ended and grew bright for a time, before it became virtually invisible. Merlin almost chuckled when he realized, if he had known he could do this long ago, his life while waiting for the return of Arthur, may have turned out quite differently.

Arthur's current place in the line flickered; dimming and brightening in relation to his health. As far as Merlin could see, it would continue that way if he did the spell correctly. Merlin could also see, though, that there was a possible divergence in the line...the choice of life or death...hinging on this moment. He saw his own line: a brilliant purple at the current point in time; joined by Martha and all the others surrounding him. It was all very similar to how Martha had explained it to Percival months before.

At the edges of his internal vision, he noticed another line. A faint white, almost like a wisp of a cloud, was barely discernible among the rest of the intricate pattern. His brow furrowed. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, or where it really was...only that it seemed to tie in with his own strand.

"Are you going to do this sometime today, Merlin?"

Gasping, Merlin came out of his meditative trance, feeling a little dizzy. He hadn't meant to go that far into the hypnotic state. "Uh..." Martha reached out and touched his arm. He felt more grounded in that instant. "That was...odd."

"What happened?" She asked with loving concern.

He shook his head. "I'll tell you later. I'm fine now."

"Good, can we get on with this?"

"You have somewhere you need to be, Arthur?"

"No, but I thought your wife did." The king smiled smugly.

Merlin couldn't offer a retort, but he smirked, "Fine. Let's do this."

* * *

 

"Don't let anyone in...or out...of your place. Got it?" Gwaine whispered, into the phone.

"I take it, this thing we're hearing about, is coming from your end?" Merlin asked, referring to what the world news was calling a global pandemic in the making. According to the reports, it was some new flu strain outbreak...supposedly, originating along the Mexican-American border. Although, knowing what he did about his friend's work and his own historical encounters with the way diseases spread, he guessed this wasn't something that had begun naturally. He still had his suspicions about the Bubonic Plague, but nowadays...time-travelling royalty aside...it was rare.

Martha had received a call earlier that day from UNIT to prepare for the potential situation. As a medical doctor for UNIT, she was on the first responder list.

Mickey and Percival took similar calls from Jack Harkness. Even Torchwood was being called in to try to find some alien link and/or cure to this newest outbreak. The news from all sides, didn't seem too bright. Merlin had an aptitude for the naturopathic side of medicine, and had even owned apothecaries from time to time, but modern medical science was beyond him. He still felt a shiver race down his spine every time he heard of a new disease spreading.

Merlin refused to answer his phone, when the UNIT Base inside Mount Snowdon called. There was nothing he could do to stem the flow, and he wanted to remain close to the house with Arthur, Gwen, and Aurie. Something potentially big was happening, and now with Gwaine's hushed words, he had a better idea of what it was.

"Too late for that, I'm afraid. Any info I can pass along to Martha, if she calls?"

He heard Gwaine sigh. "It's out of this world...if you catch my meaning. Look, Merlin, I need to go. My sister just texted me with a 911."

"Alright. Good luck." He heard the phone line go dead on the other end.

"Is everything okay?" Arthur asked, coming out onto the balcony above the great room.

The spell had taken nearly thirty minutes, once Merlin had started. The warlock was able to, not only heal all the damage, but to also dissolve every bit of metal inside Arthur's body. The pain had been intense, especially when Merlin had reached the sternum, which was still held together by metal wires after the surgery.

Merlin was sweating from the exertion of carefully putting his king back together with his magic. Once it was finished, an intense wave of vertigo had come over him, and he collapsed onto the floor for a few moments.

Arthur could tell his friend was still feeling fatigued, even an hour later. Although, he himself, was feeling better than he had in years. He vowed silently, to use that new-found energy to be more alert to those around him...especially the raven-haired man at his side.

"Yes." Merlin answered, a strained smile on his face. "Why wouldn't it be?"

The king clasped his friend's shoulder and gave it squeeze. "Because, I'm not as dense as I used to be. I can see it in your eyes. There's something wrong."

The dark haired man inhaled deeply. "I fear this is just the beginning of what's to come, and I think that the answer lies somewhere in the files from Dr. Jackson."

"You'll figure it out, Merlin. You always do, and I will help you, however I can."


	5. Chapter 5

The phone rang and went to voicemail. He hung up, without leaving a message. Gwaine hit redial again. His heart was pounding when his sister finally answered. "Laney! What's wrong?"

"Gwaine...do you know what the hell is going on?"

"Why...what happened?"

"Boyd was getting gas yesterday, in town. He started getting sick when I got home. I called his doctor this morning, who told me to call 911. They rushed Boyd off in an ambulance, because they think he was exposed to the new flu they're talking about on the news!"

"Frack..." Gwaine felt his heart drop.

One of the Stargate teams had returned through the Gate, after a month undercover on a planet that had been visited by an Ori Prior. At first, everything seemed normal...but once they had been released from their duties and left the Base...that was when things began to change. Quicker than anyone would have expected, cases of a disease with flu-like symptoms, but much quicker and deadlier, began trickling in. It was being called P2V...PRIOR2 Virus.*

The first known outbreak was on a planet that SG-1 had visited. Yet, the strain that had come to Earth seemed to be more potent, and the method of delivery became a daunting task to try to determine. There appeared to be no definable explanation as to why some people were stricken, and others were mere carriers.

"I don't know what hospital he was taken to...or anything. Gwaine, the boys are freaking out..."

"How bad was Pops when he was taken?"

"Pretty bad. It hit him hard."

He choked out the next words. He was aware of the prognosis for those infected, and with his grandfather's immune system being lower due his heart condition...Gwaine knew what the outcome would most likely be. "Did...did you and the boys get to say..."

Laney's voice was barely a whisper. "Yeah...I made sure they did, just in case."

The two of them knew firsthand, what it felt like to lose someone you cared for...and worse...what it felt like not to have been able to say the simple things. "I'm going to try and find where they took him. If I find out anything more..."

"We'll..." She cleared her throat. "...we'll get through this. At least you're closer to home now."

Gwaine put in a call to every hospital he could, attempting to find out where his grandfather had been taken. He finally broke down and made his way into the infirmary area. He was surprised to find Lam in her office, reviewing data sheets. Gwaine rapped his knuckles on the door frame, and she looked up with a smile.

"Major Dallon."

"Hey Doc, I know you're busy..."

"I have a few minutes. I need to take a break from reading these projections anyway. I think my eyes are going crossed."

He forced a smile.

"Is everything okay? Are you beginning to feel symptomatic?" She started to rise, but he waved her back to her seat.

Taking a breath, he entered her office and flopped down into the chair across from her. He shook his head. "My grandfather was one of the people exposed at the gas station. I just talked to my sister...and she doesn't know where they've taken him. I tried calling around..."

Lam held up her hand to stop him. "Some of those who were initially infected, have been brought to the temporary infirmary we've set up in one of the upper levels. I can check to see if he is on that list...if you want me to."

Gwaine exhaled a breath of hope. He nodded enthusiastically. "That'd be great."

She turned to her computer and began flipping through screens. "'...Boyd Dallon. Age: eighty-seven...'"

"That's him."

She smiled and continued reading. "One of the first cases identified after the contagion began spreading. It appears he was brought in with advanced symptoms, due to his age and health. So...he's up there. Come on, I'll walk with you. I need to speak with the medical team on that level anyway."

"Thanks." He stood and held the door open for her. "I'll have to buy you a drink after all this, to repay you."

"You don't owe me anything...but...if you still want to buy me a drink, I won't turn you down."

He shot Dr. Lam a surprised smile. As far as his sister was concerned, the petite brunette doctor of obvious Filipino descent, didn't fit what she had classified as his type. After his past experiences, he wondered if perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

* * *

 

A soft humming sound began to filter through his ears. Leon's eyes opened slowly. His breath deepened and he felt his muscles beginning to come back to life. Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, he yawned and dropped his legs to the floor, from where they had been propped on the console of his ship. He glanced at the controls and noticed he was approaching the Solar System.

He set his ship on an outer orbit, far enough away that he wouldn't be detected by any of Earth's defenses. Although he had to admit, he was fairly ignorant as to what measures the Tau'ri currently employed. He felt confident that he was close enough, however, to detect the locator beacon he had placed inside the coin.

All Leon needed to do now, was to sit back and hope his instincts paid off.

He couldn't begin to fathom how someone he knew...from so long ago...was here, nearly fifteen hundred years from the time they all should have died. Although, Gwaine and Percival's disappearances were thought to have been the work of Morgana. He mused about his own unique experience, and laughed.

In his life, it was just another mystery. He wasn't terribly worried about it. It may have just been wishful thinking. "It probably wasn't even him. Just because someone said the name. Hell, 'Gwaine' could be a popular name on Earth." He commented out loud to himself, the sword and his ship; even knowing there would be no verbal response from the latter two. His inner voice argued, however, that it wasn't a coincidence.

"Lancelot, I know you're out there somewhere...damn Ascended asshole that you are...Wish you could tell me what the hell is going on."

Over the years, he occasionally visited with his old friend. It was usually at the low points, when his faith waned. Sometimes he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and something just seemed to go right, in a situation where, by all accounts, he should have been screwed.

Leon no longer believed in magic. He knew better. In all his travels, he'd seen many things that appeared miraculous and magical, but most were due to a higher developed intelligence and advanced technology.

He had set out on a quest to retrieve a sword and been caught up in a game of intergalactic cloak and dagger, in which most of the players were hidden away in another dimension. Heimdall was a kind soul, and reminded Leon somewhat of Gaius...even though the strange little alien didn't have any eyebrows to raise.

She...although he was informed that gender was irrelevant among the Asgard...helped ease his initial trepidation. He stayed with her and assisted in her research...mostly by asking stupid questions...which she seemed to appreciate, as her mind was far more advanced, and sometimes missed the obvious. She, in turn, taught him about space travel and even about the Cup of Life.

Day and night, he cursed the longevity that the Cup of Life had given him. It was an alien artifact, that was more than ten-thousand years old. Among its 'gifts', it could create an immortal army when it held the blood of the soldiers...something he knew from first hand experience. Also, it had the ability to heal even fatal wounds, when water, purified by the cup's seemingly mystical properties, was swallowed. Although, he found out the hard way, that it was not meant to be drunk from directly. That was where the druids screwed up.

The properties imbued in the cup weren't made for humans, thus the side effect of his apparent immortality. He always wondered why he survived every battle after that, but he never really sat back to examine his luck. Leon had assumed, once Merlin's magic had come to light, that the warlock was the lucky rabbit's foot, so to speak. He had been too busy with helping to contain the outbreak of disease, and commanding the army of Camelot, to realize that he had never become sick himself, though he had to stand by as his own family fell victim.

It wasn't until the battle on Frankish soil, alongside Nemethian troops, when he knew for sure...he should have died.

According to Heimdall, there was no known way to reverse its effects.

"Hello to you too, Sir Leon." A smooth voice said from behind him.

Leon laughed and turned around to eye the spirit of the knight he used to serve with. "Speak of the devil. How the hell are you?"

Lancelot smiled, "I am well. Yourself?"

Flicking his tongue against his teeth, Leon kicked his legs back up on the console and shrugged. Whenever Lancelot visited, it was always a guessing game as to whether he would get any real information out of the Ascended man. "So, I ran across a human named Gwaine the other day. Don't suppose you know anything about that? Didn't look anything like I remember, but...there was something about him. One of his companions actually called him 'Sir' Gwaine." He sighed and picked at his teeth, staring out the window of the cockpit.

Chuckling, Lancelot shook his head. "You've changed over the years." He stated as a simple matter-of-fact. "Is there any reason to think he would be the same as well?"

Leon shook his head and snickered, "Are you telling me, he is immortal as well?"

"No." The other said plainly.

"What are you telling me, then?" He sighed and cursed under his breath. "You are not telling me anything...because you can't!...As usual." Leon didn't even bother to hide the disdain in his voice. "Fifteen hundred years of this crap. I've traveled and seen things a man of my day would never have even dreamed of. I've put up with so much shite. Will it ever end, Lancelot? Will there ever come a day when I am not hunted through galaxies...for a sword...that belonged to a man...I don't even know would be worth following now?!"

"I'll see you soon, my friend."

"Wait..."

Lancelot paused.

"Stick around for a bit. I know you don't want to hear me grumble, but I could use the company."

"You'll have company enough, shortly. You just need to be patient." With that, Lancelot faded away.

Leon picked up a glove from next to his chair, and chucked it angrily at the ghostly form. "Asshole."

A light began to blink on the console. Leon's feet hit the floor, and he looked at it warily. It was the indicator that the coin he had the boy deliver, had been activated. He sat silently, looking at it in shock. He had made certain it was voice-activated with a phrase. Something that, in this day and age, only those who had really served under Arthur knew.

* * *

 

Elaine cursed again. She was irritated beyond reason. Doing laundry was so much more pleasant with Merlin. The old man was right...her brother's ability in the common household chore was non-existent. It had been close to three weeks since Merlin and the others had left for the UK, and things in the house had pretty much gotten back to normal...at least until this morning.

Gwaine had come home the night before, and thrown in some clothes while she was working late. He had been recalled to the Base before she arrived home. Boyd had become sick through the night, and was rushed off in an ambulance early that morning.

After seeing their great-grandfather off, Toby and Greg had opted to go to school for a sense of normality amidst their worry for the old man. Randy, her youngest, was home, sick to his stomach from the anxiety. The last thing Elaine wanted to do was to fix the washing machine, when she had a load of bedding that reeked of vomit.

She pulled off the front panel of the machine, and began draining the rancid water out of the barrel. Once that was accomplished, she pulled out the filter and cursed whoever came up with the idea of front load washers. With five guys in the house, the filter clogged more often than she cared to think about.

She cringed and stuck out her tongue at the nasty mess of hair, lint and fuzz she dug out of the trap. Her fingernail caught on part of the filter, bending back low on the nail bed. She cursed loudly and almost the tip of her finger in her mouth, before a sense of how nasty that would be, caught up to her. She cradled it in her palm and bit her tongue, to keep from admitting to the pain.

Angrily, she shook the contents of the filter into the bucket of mucky, gray water. A coin that looked like something out of one of Greg's pirate chest toys, fell in with a splash. "Aw...dammit to hell!"

With another curse, she fished around in the pail and finally found it. It felt heavy for a toy coin though, and she realized the only load that had been in the wash, was that of her brother's uniforms. "Oh for fra..." The profanity was abruptly cut off, when she heard a noise and looked up to see Randy standing in the doorway of the laundry room. She tried to keep her cursing to a minimum around the boys. They heard enough of that from their father. Words like 'farfegnugen' and 'son of a biscuit eater', were not uncommon in her house. The coin slipped from her hand and almost fell back into the bucket.

Randy moved on from the doorway, back towards his bedroom. Even sick, he knew better than to push his mother when she had a certain look on her face. "For the love of Go..." She began to utter, as she picked the coin back up. Something embossed on its surface gave her pause, and she tried to read it. "...Camelot? What the hell, Gwaine?"

A beam of light engulfed her. She screamed in fright at the sensation of her body molecularizing, and the world she knew faded around her.

* * *

 

"Holy shit. Holy fracking shit. Oh, my God. Oh, fracking hell. Oh, my God..." The string of nervous profanity continued, after she saw she was no longer in her laundry room.

"Who are you?" A smooth masculine voice asked.

Laney spun on the man. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Me?! Who the frack are you?!"

He grinned in amusement at her obvious discomfort. Leaning back casually in his chair, he looked her over. Dark hair, with golden highlights, escaped from a ponytail and framed her face. While she was dressed simply in loose fitting clothing and was obviously unprepared to meet anyone, he couldn't help but muse that if she tried, she would clean up quite beautifully.

The grin turned into a teasing smile. A window to the stars framed him from behind and he brushed the dirty blond curls out of his face. His blue-gray eyes sparkled with mirth. "I asked you first."

"Well, frack you! Put me back...or I swear I'm going...!" Her tirade slowed when she noticed the view out the window. Her hand went to her mouth and covered a gasp."Oh...my...fracking God...is that the moon?" Dark brown eyes narrowed at the man. "If this is my brother's idea of a joke..."

"Depends..." He said, in a bored voice. "Who is your brother?"

"Oh, ho ho! Clever, Space Boy! If you think you are gonna use me against him in some way, you are in for a major reality check, buddy!" Her breathing came raggedly through flared nostrils. Her eyes began searching the area inside the ship. Spinning on her heel, she stomped around the cockpit, trying to find a door.

"Space Boy?" He mouthed silently. The man sighed, and the smirk left his face. Though the sight was rather entertaining, he wasn't a man who took pleasure in the pain of others. "I'm looking for someone named Gwaine."

"You and me both! If I find him first, though, there isn't going to be enough left of him for you. I'm just saying." Her fear and discomfort began morphing into anger.

He snorted against the back of his hand. "Obviously, he hasn't changed much over the years, then." He commented to himself.

She rounded on him with a steely glare. "Are you telling me he didn't set you up to this?"

Shaking his head, he held out his hand. "I'm Leon."

Pausing, she took a breath and rolled her eyes. "Un-fracking-believable. They said you died like two-thousand or something years ago!"

Leon laughed, "Now that is interesting, seeing as I was born just over fifteen-hundred Earth years ago."

"What-the-frack-ever! Merlin said you were already gone, when they were talking."

He was on his feet immediately and crossed the cabin towards her. The amusement was gone from his eyes. His voice felt pained as he asked, "Merlin...he's alive?"

Elaine nervously licked her lips at the sudden mood change. "Yeah...um...I hate to do this, but I did leave a sick six-year-old back down there, and I've been waiting for word about my grandfather, who was taken to the hospital."

"I'm sorry. Of course." He turned back to the console and fiddled with a series of controls to put the ship into sleep mode. Leon's mind was running in circles. Leon's mind was running in circles...first Gwaine, now Merlin. He calmed his breathing before he turned back to the woman. "I didn't catch your name."

"Everyone...well, everyone but my grandfather...calls me Laney."

He smiled cordially. "Pleasure to meet you, Laney. Sorry about the...uh..."

Barking out an anxious laugh, she replied, "Seems to be quite a normal thing, lately."

He powered down everything but the transporter, and the cloaking device. His ship, a modified...and stolen...Tel'tak cargo ship from the Goa'uld, was quite common in the Milky Way Galaxy, and thus was less likely to be noticed in passing. On the outside it looked rather like a legless turtle, with a pyramid shaped shell. The nose, which housed the cockpit, stuck out of the front. He'd taken out the standard transporter Rings that were built into each Tel'tak, and had replaced them with an Asgard transporter.

Although the Rings had the added benefit of being able to go through some shields, provided there was a similar set of Rings on the receiving end, the Asgard version took up much less space. At nearly seven foot in diameter, and even stored, the five Rings needed to be stacked at almost two feet in depth.

Thus far, he hadn't regretted his choice. It allowed him to make other modifications and add a few more hidden compartments. He debated on using one of them, adapted with the best security he could manage, to hide Excalibur now.

He looked at the sword, like an old friend. It had been the one constant in his centuries of life. He didn't know if the burden he felt from carrying it...protecting it...for so long would ease when the time came to give it to his king...or if it would create an unbearable hole inside him. Grasping the scabbard, he slung it over his back in a practiced motion. Leon rarely went anywhere without it, and there was no reason he should start now.

"Nice sword." Laney commented sarcastically.

He ignored her tone and stood next to her. On his wrist, was the oddest-looking watch she had ever seen. He swiped his thumb across the square face, then pressed a series of small buttons on the side. Leon snickered at the look on the Laney's face as the transporter beam engulfed her, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Stargate Episodes 9x10 and 9x11 "The Fourth Horseman" is when the PRIOR2 Virus was brought through to Earth.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin slid the phone into his pocket a scant moment before a wave of dizziness descended upon him. He felt Arthur's arms, now strong and vigorous, steadying him.

"Are you alright?" He heard the king's voice, filled with concern.

The warlock held out his hands, and seemed to regain his balance. "I think so...probably just exhaustion from..."

"The spell?" Arthur asked, though he had no idea how magic worked. It made sense to him that it would be like any other mental or physical exercise. "Where's your room? You should probably rest."

The fact that Merlin didn't argue, wasn't lost on Arthur. Merlin's eyelids drooped, and he leaned on his friend, while giving Arthur directions through the house. The hallways were overly decorated and the king snorted as he looked on them in passing.

"What?"

"Your decorating style...is rather interesting."

"Yeah...I rather dislike it, but this is what happens when I give someone a lot of money and have them attend to it, while I travel the world. It's what an eighteenth century classic manor house is supposed to look like...or some such shite." He rolled his eyes. "I've just never spent enough time here to actually do anything about it. When I have been here, it's usually just in my chambers, the office, the gym...or outside somewhere."

They reached a large set of panelled, double doors at the end of the hallway. Merlin pushed them open and the suite of rooms beyond, caught Arthur by surprise. They were bright, clean, updated...and certainly more modern than the rest of the house he had seen. The walls were clean of any of the obnoxious wall decoration and were painted in a light pale blue; the coffered ceiling high above, was white. The thick carpeting from the hall floor ended, and gave way to light wood flooring, the likes of which Arthur had never seen before, flowed through the space; accented only by an area rug that peeked out from under the edges of the bed, providing a warm place for feet to land. The whole ambiance of the room was tranquil.

The bed was low to the ground, set on a dark wood base and the mattress, in Arthur's opinion, appeared rather hard and thin. The head was located against a wall to the left where, when laying on the bed, one could see both the bedchamber door and the east facing bevelled glass of the French doors, which lead out onto a balcony. One armoire, a small table beside the bed, and a simple wooden chair near the glass doors completed the furnishings.

A small wave of Merlin's hand, and the doors opened, allowing for a gentle breeze to flow into the room.

"Another type of remote thing?"

"Nope...that was magic." Merlin responded, disengaging himself from Arthur and making his own way over to the bed.

Arthur nodded. As strange as the style was, it fitted Merlin. "I guess your life is so complex...Always has been, I suppose...You need a calm place like this to rest."

Merlin smiled, peeling off his shoes, and stretching out on the bed. "Are you giving me permission to take the afternoon off, Sire?" The snark in his voice was tempered with the warmth of the friendship they used to share.

Arthur looked out towards the balcony, with a teasing grin. "Just today. Tomorrow I expect you..." He glanced at Merlin out of the corner of his eye. "...to be yourself and start helping me figure this place out."

"That, I can do." Merlin said with a sigh. "Oh, if you can manage to find your way to the kitchens, you know what you should do this afternoon?"

"Hmm?"

"Find Cassie, and ask her to help get a basket together for you. Take your wife outside for a picnic. She's been through a hell of a lot the past couple years of her life."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. He realized that, for all his time in the past few weeks spent with Guinevere, their only real conversations had been centered on getting him back up and running, their son, and adjusting his mindset. He marvelled at the strength she had shown and wondered if he could have done the same, if their positions had been reversed.

Images of his own father while he was growing up, came to mind. The bitterness from the loss of Arthur's mother came to the forefront. How differently would he have reacted, if it was Guinevere who had been taken from him?

He turned to thank Merlin for the suggestion, but discovered his friend was already sound asleep.

* * *

 

"Hey Dallon, where ya been? Colonel Reeves has been looking for ya." Lt. Summer said, with a teasing glint in his eye. "You were supposed to report to the gym for our phys training two hours ago. You're gonna be in trouble."

"Shut up, Summer. I was busy with some personal shit." Gwaine responded, "Where's the Colonel? I need to talk with him."

"Filing a report with General Landry about your behavior." The cocky young Lieutenant stood back in a challenging stance. "Word has it, you're gonna be on your way out soon."

"You're walking a fine line, Lieutenant. Don't push me...not when Reeves isn't here to save your sorry ass. In case you've forgotten, I outrank you."

"Oooh, is that a threat...Major?" Summer stepped forward, coming face to face with his superior.

"Is there a problem?" Major Calden's voice broke through the tension.

Gwaine's mouth worked, trying to formulate a response. He simply wasn't in a mood to deal with Summer.

The Lieutenant smirked, and backed off a step. "No, Sir. I was just explaining to Major Dallon that the Colonel was looking for him."

Calden, luckily, had a better head on his shoulders than his teammate, and could sense the underlying tension. Gwaine outranked him due to time served, although the other Major had been on the team longer. He had an easy-going attitude and worked well with the others, mostly ignoring Summer's behavior.

Recently, he'd expressed to Gwaine, that the reason he wasn't considered for the Second-In-Command position on the team, was because he was on his way out. Calden had seen enough of the day-to-day activities of the SGC, and was being offered a very lucrative position as a consultant, to one of the Base's private contractors. "Everything alright, Dallon?"

Gwaine nodded mutely, finally taking his eyes off Summer.

"Oh, come on Major. It's not like someone died, or anything."

Before Calden could blink, Gwaine's fist had met with Summer's jaw. He grabbed Gwaine and pulled him back, just as Security Personnel converged on the altercation.

* * *

 

A few minutes later, all four members of SG-18 were standing in Landry's office. The general was pacing back and forth, ranting, "You lot don't think I have enough to deal with? What with the Prior Virus running rampant? The President declared a state of quarantine..but it was too late, we're already getting reports in that someone managed to get on a flight to Europe!"

He came to a stop in front of Gwaine. "Major Dallon, I think I have been more than lenient with you, since your return. I don't know how command issues were handled in the Dark Ages, but here...IT'S NOT BY PUNCHING YOUR TEAM MATE!"

Summer's was holding an ice pack to his face, while trying to stand at attention. He let out a soft, unintentional snort at the reprimand Gwaine was receiving. Unfortunately, this caused Landry's attention to shift.

He stood in front of Summer, looking down his nose at the lieutenant. The kid snapped to full attention immediately. "You think that's funny...do you? You think, just because you guys are Marines, that you can get away with antics like this?"

"No, Sir!" Summer responded.

"Colonel Reeves. What do you have to say about your team? I know you had just written up Major Dallon again. I had thought, since the two of you knew each other years ago, you might be able to work with him easier. Was I wrong?"

"Sir, I've tried working with him, but as this incident shows..."

"This incident also shows what others have complained about, as well, Colonel! You can't control your team! I have half a mind to throw you all in the brig!"

The door to Landry's office opened. Walter purposely didn't make eye contact with any of the officers inside, as he tapped nervously at the paper in his hand. "Sorry, Sir. The latest report of those infected. There's been another..." He paused. Normally, he was able to relay information easily, but he'd read the name on the printout. Walter swallowed and glanced at Gwaine.

"Another what, Chief?"

"Uh...sorry, Sir. There's been another death reported. This was one of the people infected at the gas station and brought to Level Five." His eyes shifted to Gwaine again. The Major's eyes were closed and Walter realized, Gwaine already knew what was on the report. Quickly, he handed the page to Landry and excused himself.

Landry's eyes narrowed. He sat down in the big red chair at his desk, his eyes scanning the report. "Major Dallon, I assume you were up on Level Five when Colonel Reeves was looking for you?"

Gwaine's eyes glistened and his mouth tightened, but he didn't break stance. "Yes, Sir."

The general nodded thoughtfully. "Is it safe to assume, you already know what is in this report?"

He didn't trust his voice to say anything more than..."Yes, Sir."

"You will still have to be punished for your physical assault on a fellow officer, and not informing your command right away."

"Yes, Sir." Gwaine didn't expect any less.

"The Base is still under lockdown...but you may go make any calls you need to. You are temporarily removed from duty until this can be resolved. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sir." He nodded and moved towards the door, not making eye contact with his teammates.

"Sir!" The colonel began to protest. He was silenced with a single look from Landry.

"Oh, and Major Dallon...". Landry added, as Gwaine's hand reached for the handle.

He turned back to his commanding officer.

"My condolences to you and your family."

Gwaine inhaled sharply, unable to stop the tears from beginning their descent. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Sir."

_Gwaine had tried to keep an encouraging smile on his face. Boyd had lived a long life, filled with hardship and loss._

_"I'm glad you were found, kid. I think your sister would have been the death of me...if you hadn't come home. Take care of her, and those brats of hers."_

_Gwaine laughed with Pops. "I will." He reached out for his grandfather's hand, though it felt strange through the biohazard suit he wore. Covered head-to-toe in the gear meant to protect him from the alien disease, he felt clumsy and separated from the world around him._

_"Tell that friend of yours 'thanks' for me, will ya?"_

_"Which friend is that, Pops?" Gwaine bit back his tears, unable to wipe them away through the mask he wore._

_"That Emrys guy...Looks just like his grandfather. He saved my ass in the war...though, I don't think he knows it..." Boyd suffered through a coughing fit. When it finally quieted, he told his grandson how he had lied about his age and enlisted before he turned eighteen. Before he could blink, he was in the water, heading towards Normandy with thousands of other boys...just as scared as he was._

_"I thought you were a pilot...and got shot down?" Gwaine chuckled, wondering how far gone his grandfather's mind was._

_"That was later..." The old man's rheumy eyes clouded with nostalgia. "I don't like remembering the early days. We made our way inland...I got separated from my unit. Two days in, and I was a mess...couldn't have found my way out of a wet paper sack. A fire fight was going on above me and I saw an RAF Kittyhawk get shot down nearby._

_"I went to check out the wreckage...see if I could use the radio or something. The pilot was unconscious, but alive. I pulled him out and bandaged him as best I could. Thought he was a goner. Radio was busted. Figured, least I could do was not to let the man die alone...but after a while he came to. Seemed surprised, but who wouldn't be when you'd already made peace with your maker._

_"Took a few hours before he was able to limp along, but the guy seemed to be touched by God or something. I helped him move, and we found ourselves at one of the rendezvous points. He seemed to have an uncanny sense of direction. I remembered telling him how I had wanted to be a pilot myself. Never saw him again, after that, but when I got out of there, I found a letter accepting me to pilot training."_

_The old man coughed again, his body weakened by the disease, showed the strain of the action._

_"Hang in there, Pops. The docs here will find a cure and get you through." Gwaine used a towel to wipe his grandfather's face._

_"Not this time, buckaroo. It's time to put me out to pasture. Caitlyn is waiting for me...with supper ready. You know how feisty she can get, if I keep her waiting."_

_Gwaine had never had the pleasure of meeting his grandmother. She had died from cancer during his father's estrangement from the Dallon family. He knew the stories though, from Boyd and others, around the small Wyoming town they lived near. Everything he heard, reminded him of Laney. As much as he wanted his grandfather to survive...he knew in his heart, it was time to let go._

Landry turned back to the other three members of SG-18. He was secretly pleased to see the shock and shame evident on both Reeves and Summer's faces. "Dismissed."

Reeves and Summer scrambled out of the office, but Calden paused at the door. "General...?" He implored.

"It was his grandfather."

"Shit."

Landry simply nodded.

* * *

 

"Major Dallon?" Lam's voice called, from the door of Gwaine's on Base living quarters.

The majority of the personnel who worked at the SGC, had sleeping quarters assigned to them. For the enlisted, this meant a barracks situation with bunkbeds, or racks, in a larger room. Junior officers, like Lieutenant Summer, shared rooms with one or two others of similar rank; while those further up in the hierarchy, were given private one room quarters.

Gwaine was sitting on the edge of his bed, in the same position he had been for the last five hours, since being dismissed by Landry. The old stetson hat hung loosely from his fingers, while he stared at the floor. He twisted its brim and let the memories wash over him. He didn't want to be alone, but he knew he was poor company. With the crisis caused by the pandemic, he wanted to keep himself out of the way.

"Shouldn't you be working on the cure or something, Doc?" He glanced up at her.

Carolyn Lam came into the room quietly and sat on the bed next to him. "About an hour ago Gerak, the former leader of the Free Jaffa, came through the Gate. He'd become a Prior for the Ori, but I guess he hadn't fully converted."

He shrugged, not understanding what she was trying to get at.

"That wave of power that came through recently...cured everyone. He sacrificed himself to create a cure."

Gwaine recalled feeling the odd pulse, much like a change in air pressure, roll through the Base earlier. Since the entire air flow system of the SGC was pressurized, it had made him wonder.

Carolyn continued, "Unfortunately, it wasn't strong enough to go much beyond the area, but we've already been able to isolate the antibodies it created in the victims of the P2V and it will be easy to synthesize the cure for others around the globe. I wish he had come through sooner."

Gwaine shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Pops was up there in years. If it wasn't this..." He choked back the emotion that began to overwhelm him.

The doctor put her arm around his back, and that moment of offered comfort was greedily accepted. Gwaine sagged into her arms and cried.

After a while she pulled back. "Have you called anyone yet?"

He shook his head. Gwaine had picked up his phone, and had started to dial the numbers numerous times to his sister, Merlin and Percival. Each time, he had hung up before it connected. "I don't know what to tell them. I left a message for my sister, after I first found out he was here..but I haven't heard back."

"Well, I need to get back to work. We should be off of Lock-Down in about an hour. Do you want me to get someone to drive you home?"

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her fingers. Dark brown eyes, still wet with tears, lifted and met hers. Carolyn leaned forward at the same time he did. Their lips meeting in a gentle caress.

Gwaine gasped and sat up straight as realization dawned on him of who he was, who she was, and where they were. "Damn..."

She gave him a look of questioning surprise. "I'm sorry. You just lost your grandfather..."

"Well, that too..." He sniffed loudly and stared at the wall. "...but aside from that, you are also the General's daughter."

"Ah..." Carolyn pursed her lips.

He stood up, began pacing and raked a hand over his head. His mind was reeling from the loss, and was now compounded by the thought of how much trouble he could get in, for kissing her. "Not even back a year and I'm making a total mess of things. My friends are in another country. Pops is...gone...because I convinced him to move to Colorado. My career is probably tanked now...if not for decking a subordinate, then for..." He waved his hand in her direction.

She pushed herself up off the bed and took his hand, halting his back and forth movements. "Hey! You have friends here, too." Carolyn protested. Taking a breath, she squeezed his fingers. "Your grandfather's heart was weak, but he got to spend time with you...and you got to be there with him, when he passed. From what I heard, Summer deserved it...and I think, I might have been the one to take advantage of your emotional state. So, you can't be held accountable."

Allowing himself a chuckle through his grief, he squeezed her hand. "You're right...You are right." He sighed forlornly. "You did take advantage of me."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did...and if you did it again, I probably wouldn't complain."

Her dark eyebrows rose up on her forehead. "Probably wouldn't?"

"Okay, fine." He rolled his eyes. "I promise, I won't file sexual harassment charges."

Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement at his choice of phrasing.

Gwaine lifted his free hand and ran his fingers through her hair to the back of her neck. Closing the distance between their faces, their lips met again, softly. "Thank you." He whispered, against her mouth.

She pulled away, a blush rising into her cheeks. Brushing her black hair away from her face, she drew a deep breath and smiled, "I need to get back to work, so you can go home."

Reluctantly, he released her and nodded.

Carolyn reached the door and turned back for a moment. "Let me know, when you want to buy me that drink."

"Yo! Dallon!" They heard, as she opened the door to leave.

"Colonel Mitchell," she said, acknowledging the man with a nod, before moving past him.

"Doc," he returned. Cameron stared at Gwaine for a moment. "I wanted to catch you and let you know...I heard about Pops...but I have to say, that color really suits you, man." He pointed to his own lips, indicating that his friend should probably look in a mirror, before going anywhere.

While Gwaine was looking in the mirror, wiping the little bit of rose lipstick off, he laughed.

"What?" Cameron asked.

"You know, Pops got to meet Dr. Lam one of the days I was in the hospital, after I got back. He took a shine to her."

The colonel guffawed, "I wouldn't put it past him to have made sure he died here. Just to see her again...and to try and set you up."

"Me neither." Gwaine laughed, "Remember that time I dragged you to the rodeo..."

"...and there were those two fine little ladies, in the painted-on jeans? Mmhmm."

Gwaine smiled and nodded, "I remember him saying...'I may be too old to chase them tails...'"

"'...but it doesn't mean I can't put on my sweet ol' grandpa charm, to get them to look your way!'"

"Attention all personnel: Quarantine status is no longer in effect. Stand down from Quarantine..." Walter's voice continued through the intercom system.

"Come on, buddy. I'll walk you out. Have you talked to Laney yet?"

Shaking his head, Gwaine grabbed his things and locked up his room. "I think it'll be better face-to-face, with the boys and all."


	7. Chapter 7

Fumbling for the phone, Merlin tried to shove the remnants of sleep from his mind. He attempted to answer it, but realized he had been too slow. The alert showed that the call had been from Martha. He groaned and looked at the time. Just after two a.m.; he mentally counted out the hours since he had first decided to lay down.

His plan had been to take a brief nap before supper, just to regain his strength after pouring his energy into healing Arthur. Obviously, it took more out of him than he imagined. Twelve hours, and he barely felt as if he had slept at all, so vivid were the dreams he suffered. It was reminiscent of the tapestry of fate he had witnessed before he used his healing on Arthur. The intensity of it in the dream had increased, and actually left him feeling the twinges of a headache, upon waking.

He heard the beep from the electronic device, alerting him to a waiting voicemail message. Part of him wanted to call her back immediately, but he knew if he did, he would lose the images in his mind. He, instead, found the vocal recorder among the apps in the phone and began describing all he could remember, before the dream was gone forever. It was a practice he had begun on a trip through what was now modern China, back in the thirteenth century.

Around nine-hundred and eighty, Merlin had been serving as an advisor to a very young king. The boy, Æthelred, wasn't even a teenager yet, when members of his household had taken it upon themselves to kill his older brother, so that their master could have the crown.

A year later, the Danes had begun raiding the coastal towns. The Normans along the coast of France were giving safe harbor to their Danish cousins, from whom they were descended. Merlin had taken the opportunity to hand deliver a message to the Pope to ask for aid in reaching a peaceful agreement between England and Normandy, in an attempt to stem the attacks.

He had briefly considered going back to Æthelred's court after speaking with the Pope, but his heart wasn't in it. Instead, he had decided to travel around through the different regions surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. This had included Egypt and down into Africa for a time, before he found himself back in Italy, with the intention to set out for his homeland...from which he had been absent for nearly three centuries.

In Venice, a chance meeting with a rather affluent man had afforded Merlin with the opportunity to make a rather nice sum of gold, as a tutor for the man's nephew...a young boy named Marco. When the boy's father had returned from travelling through Asia, the stories he brought with him sparked excitement. Although torn about going home, Merlin had decided that a few more years away wouldn't hurt. So, when they had asked him to join their expedition along what would later become known as the Silk Road...he had eagerly accepted.

The caravan had stopped in Persia to speak with Kublai Khan, and shortly thereafter, had set out for China to find a bride for the Khan. Once they had made it to Shanghai, Merlin was in complete awe of the ancient eastern city.

When the party of merchants...including the now grown man Merlin had been tutoring for years...decided to head back west, the warlock realized it was time for him to separate from his young friend Marco at last. When he literally ran into a young lady in the busy fish market, it was just the opportunity he had been hoping for. Ning was the embodiment of the very definition of her name...tranquillity. He couldn't speak but a few words of her language. The flirtatious smiles, as he helped her pick up the items she had dropped, had been enough though, to break through the initial barrier.

Merlin noticed with interest that much of what she carried, appeared to be of an herbal nature, possibly for healing. He sniffed one that smelled rather familiar, like comfrey. Upon Merlin's pantomime of using the herb on a wound, her black eyes lit up and she nodded. After which, she beckoned him to follow her, and he did without a second thought.

For the nearly eight decades, they spent their lives together. Merlin quickly learned the language. Ning's father was a healer, and his skills extended beyond just herbal medicine. Having no son, he taught Merlin his craft. It took a while for the concepts of Feng Shui to actually sink into his very western brain, but the acupuncture and other aspects of Chinese medicine came naturally to him.

They had no children of their own, but Ning and Merlin's home was far from empty. Children from the streets seemed to find their way into the home and the hearts of the two of them.

The celebrations for the lunar New Year began a few days after Ning was laid to rest. Merlin watched from a hilltop, as dragon dancers and crowds of people filled the streets. Fireworks were ignited and he watched as the tail of sparks shot into the night sky.

Amidst the joy of the party, he felt more lost than he had been since he said goodbye to Mithian. He wondered about the significance of the New Year...the year of the Dragon.

Intrigued, he noticed some children, dressed in the costume of a white dragon. One little boy peaked out from under the middle and handed Merlin a firework. "Shoot it to the sky and it will show you the way."

...And Merlin did...watching the trail as it arched towards the west...towards his homeland.

He gifted the apothecary shop and nearly all of his possessions to one of the children they had raised. He left with only a few personal possessions, and the supplies needed to make the first leg of the journey.

Merlin laid back when he finished recording his dream, which included some of the memories of that time in China. In the dream, however, instead of an explosion at the top of the firework's arc, it had morphed and the great wings unfurled, revealing the familiar form of a western dragon flying off towards the stars.

* * *

Strong muscles ached in a way that felt so good. He stretched and smiled. He looked over the sleeping form next to him. She seemed so much younger than she had the day before. Cautiously sweeping aside her dark curls, he kissed her cheek before deciding to pull himself out of the bed.

Biting back a chuckle, he grinned upon hearing her sleepy protest as his warmth left the bed. Arthur pulled on the soft fleece pants he had been given, and padded silently across the room. Beaming with pride, he adjusted the blanket over the small boy in the crib...sound asleep, just like his mother.

He grabbed a shirt out of the wardrobe and shook his head. It was thinner than most of the tunics he used to wear, and as with all the clothing in this modern age, was softer and stretchy. Slipping it on, he enjoyed the way the T-shirt material hugged him, like a second skin. He wasn't vain...well, not entirely...but he had been brought up to care about his appearance. It was expected, first as prince and later as king, to set himself apart from others.

Aside from the clothing, there were so many other differences he had yet to wrap his mind around. He had spent some time earlier that day discussing it with his wife. His smile widened, recalling the glorious afternoon they spent together. His smile widened, recalling the glorious afternoon they had spent together. After Merlin had fallen asleep, Arthur managed to find not only Cassie, but also a lady named Harri, who turned out to be the housekeeper.

Harri's husband, Wendell, was the butler for the estate, and his family had managed the place for 'The Colonel' for nearly seven generations. With an overflowing picnic basket, the thin woman, who was perhaps in her sixties, sent him on his way and out into the gardens.

He and Gwen ate, while Aurie crawled around on the manicured lawn, chasing bugs and eating grass. "Can you ever forgive me?" He had asked of his wife.

Guinevere gave him the most curious look. "For what?"

"Leaving you...and not being there with Aurielinus."

"Oh, Arthur!" She moved in and kissed him deeply. "I am so grateful to have you returned to me...to us, I mean. I think this is how things are supposed to be. Now, I can finally be just your wife."

"I'm not sure I know how to be a husband and not a king, though."

"You'll learn, just as I learned how to be a queen for you." Gwen smiled knowingly.

"But what are we to do with ourselves? I don't want to live off Merlin's generosity for the rest of our lives. He's an old man, and it shows."

Biting her bottom lip, Gwen glanced back at the house. "I'm not sure if it's age that is plaguing him."

"So, it's not just my imagination?"

She shook her head. "I think I will call Martha and ask her about it. I've seen him use magic, Arthur...powerful magic from before...and I don't recall it ever taking such a toll. I would think after centuries of practice, it would come easier to him, but it appears to be quite the opposite."

"Perhaps, it is time we start looking after him then?" Arthur said with a gleam in his eye. Gwen had laughed and agreed.

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of an old man in a small, motorized buggy. He introduced himself as Ben, the gardener, and offered to take them on a tour of the gardens if they wished. He spoke to them in a friendly manner, but his thick accent caused Arthur to blink rapidly, in a complete lack of comprehension to what the man was saying. Gray whiskers dotted the man's chin, though his upper lip was bare. Fuzzy, white hair stuck out from under the man's cap, and was revealed to be the only hair on the man's otherwise bald head, when the man tipped his hat to them. His teeth, those that remained, were worn and crooked, with an odd yellow staining.

They rode through the gardens in the buggy. Ben pointed out different areas of interest as they went. Some of the places had stone walls surrounding them; others were bordered with low hedges. There were others with intricate stone fountains and huge plots of roses. Arthur had rarely ever taken the time to visit the gardens in Camelot, though he knew they had been nowhere near as grand as what he was seeing. Uther had never spent too much time or resources on such frivolity, that Arthur knew of...or if he did, Arthur never took the time to notice.

Ben took them to the stables next...a large, modern facility, with an indoor ring as large as the tournament field was in Camelot. Arthur beamed and danced around like a child, completely awed by the conditions inside the stables, with its climate control and cleanliness. "These horses live better than we did in the castle!"

Gwen smiled, and adjusted Aurie on her hip, her eyes roving the stalls in overwhelmed fascination. "They certainly do."

Arthur extended his arms for his son, and Gwen happily handed the boy over. Aurie stared wide-eyed at one of the horses. "When you are old enough, my son, I shall teach you to ride. My father hired a tutor for me, but I guess that is a definite upside to no longer being king. I shall be able to teach you myself."

Amber brown eyes misted over with a memory. "Sir Leon had just chosen a young colt, which he was planning to personally train for Aurie...just before the sickness came through."

Arthur instinctively moved closer to Gwen, as if he could somehow protect her from the memories.

After that, they made their way back towards the main manor house and moved on to other, lighter, topics of conversation. Arthur understood now how precious life was, and he didn't want to squander it by seeing the sadness in his wife's eyes.

He looked back at her content sleeping form on the bed. 'Yes,' he thought, 'I am a lucky man. ' Leaving the room, he wandered through the dimly lit hallways. The place was certainly different from the Camelot he had known, but it didn't seem as out of place to him as he thought it would.

The sound of a voice brought his attention out its meandering.

"...coming back home soon, then?"

"Good. Oh?" Just the tone in Merlin's voice told Arthur his friend had a large smile on his face. "So, you decided not to get the shot...that means...?" Merlin laughed, "Yes, love, I'll get right on it. Yeah, it is a bit scary, but I think I'm ready for it again, because it'll be with you."

"Right. Well, you drive safely, darling, and I'll see you tomorrow night."

Arthur found his friend sitting midway down the grand central staircase leading into the main hall. He sat down next to him. "Was that Dr. Jones?"

"Yeah. I guess an antidote has been found to combat the plague already. So, whatever it was, isn't anywhere near as bad as it could have been."

"Have you heard back from Gwaine?"

Merlin shook his head. "I was going to give him a ring tomorrow, if I haven't heard from him by then."

"So...what are we to do until then?"

Shrugging, the warlock peeled himself off the stairs. "I think I should start working on translating the files Dr. Jackson gave me."

"I may as well give you a hand with that, then. I don't think I could sleep anytime soon. I think I had enough of that over the past centuries."

"You help? Really?" Merlin snickered.

"Hey, I was formally tutored and can speak three languages."

"Well, alright then. Let's get to it."

* * *

 

"Wow...just...wow. I know he said he drank a bit more back then, but I don't think I had a clue how much. It sounds like my brother had a very interesting adventure."

The blond man chuckled and brushed the curls out of his face. "So it would appear."

"Why am I not surprised, though, that my brother would stick his hand inside a beehive, just for some honey?"

"Uncle Gwaine's almost home." Toby said, coming out onto the front porch. He glanced warily at the blond man who had been at the house, when he and his brother came home from school. He brushed his own light brown hair out of his face and flopped down on the steps, with an electronic game in his hand.

Leon caught himself wondering how much the boy must have looked like his uncle at that age.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing your homework?" Laney asked, and received an apathetic shrug in return.

"I saw the Beast turning off the highway." From his room, Toby was able to see across the fields to the highway using Boyd's old binoculars. "Do you think Pops is with him?"

Elaine moved to the steps and put her arm around him. "I don't know."

Soon after, they began to hear the old Scout's engine as it turned down the drive and the headlights caught them on the porch. Leon stepped back into the shadows and watched.

Toby was at the door of the orange vehicle the moment the engine cut off. His mother stayed back on the porch, wringing her hands nervously. She saw her brother open the door of the Scout and say something to Toby. The kid's shoulders slumped and his chin nearly touched his chest. Gwaine climbed out and immediately wrapped his nephew in an embrace.

She felt her shoulders tighten. Just from their body language, she was able to tell. The news, although not unexpected, wasn't good. Gwaine pulled back and said a few more words, before he reached into the old Scout and pulled out a familiar, worn out Stetson. He put it on his nephew's head with a sad smile. Toby nodded and moved to the back of the vehicle, presumably to get his uncle's bag, while Gwaine shut the driver's door and looked towards his sister, silhouetted in the porch light.

On shaking legs, she stepped down off the porch onto the gravel drive. One foot in front of the other, Elaine made her way over to her brother. "He...didn't make it, did he?"

Gwaine shook his head. "No...it wasn't even the virus that ultimately got him. It was that bloody heart of his."

She nodded, and felt the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. Strong arms pulled her into an embrace. "I'm glad it happened this way."

Looking down at his sister, Gwaine started to open his mouth to question.

"I mean, that I don't have to deal with this alone...in the middle of bum-frack-Wyoming."

He chuckled, "Yeah, me too. How about we go in, have a drink, and figure out how to tell the little ones?"

"I'm more than ready for a drink, after the day I've had." Wrapping her arm around his torso, he kept one of his across her shoulders and moved towards the porch. Suddenly, she turned and punched his shoulder.

"OW!"

"That was for creating a mess in laundry, when that stupid coin of yours got through into the you have any idea what I've been through today?!"

He took a moment to look at her, and realized she was purposely not dealing with the sadness for the time being. "Well, I think we've both had a doozy. I decked Lt. Summer. Got hit on by a cute little doctor..."

"Oh, nice." She deadpanned, "I was abducted by a hot alien friend of yours."

They stared at each other for a moment. Gwaine licked his lips and cocked his head off to the side with a roll of his eyes, attempting to assess if she was being serious.

Toby came lumbering by, hauling his uncle's duffle bag. "Mom's not joking. That's the guy standing on the porch, but I don't know about the whole 'hot' thing."

Gwaine first glanced at his sister, wearing a look of disbelief, that she might have compromised the secret classification of his work.

"Not my fault! He beamed me up, and then back like something out of Star Trek! Randy happened to see us return...and of course, he had to tell his brothers when they got home from school."

Dark eyebrows furrowed and followed his sister's gesturing hand towards the front door. A face from the past, barely changed by the passage of time...like when he first saw Merlin again, though his own and Percival's separation had been brief from their friend...he was able to detect the subtle changes in the man before him.

Blue eyes met his brown ones, and a smile formed on Gwaine's face. "It  _was_  you out there."

"I never would have recognized you, if it hadn't been for the other man calling out 'Sir Gwaine', in a very familiar manner." The blond man said. He came forward and held out his arm.

Gwaine grasped it at the wrist and the two estranged friends pulled each other into a hug.

"I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather." Leon's voice was soft and his sentiment was heartfelt.

Gwaine nodded his thanks. "Well, looks like we'll be sharing some stories over drinks tonight, eh? Good thing, too. I could use the distraction."

"First though, we need to..." Laney said in a melancholy tone.

Her brother understood exactly what she meant. Sitting the boys down and talking to them about their great-grandfather, was the first priority.

* * *

 

"I don't suppose you ever went swimming to get my sword back?" Arthur tone betrayed his boredom. He had thought, for some reason, that he would have actually been able to assist Merlin. For the first hour, the warlock had attempted to explain the computer. All the former king managed to do, was to make the infernal machine beep at him, as if scolding him for touching the wrong button. He had finally given up and settled for waking up someone to brew him and Merlin some of the coffee the warlock was quite fond of.

A few hours later, having drunk the coffee and poked through the library, Arthur was simply bored and began a mild interrogation into Merlin's past.

"Nope." Merlin responded in a clipped tone. His fingers moved across the letters.

The king reached out to smack the back of his servant's head.

Merlin ducked the blow without a blink. He paused for a moment, his shoulders sagged slightly, and he looked at Arthur. "I tried to use magic, but I couldn't find it...Even took a boat out with an underwater radar and a metal detector at one point, but no use. It's not there anymore, Arthur. It hasn't been for years." He turned back to the screen and the clicking of the keyboard started again.

Shaking his head, Arthur held up his hand in disbelief. "You lost the sword that was burnished in dragon's fire? The one you made for me?"

"Yep." The tapping continued.

"How the hell did you even convince the dragon to breathe on it and not incinerate you?

"He liked me."

"He liked you?"

"Yep. We were sorta like kin, until he died."

"Kin?" The blond king groaned and closed his eyes, not quite grasping what his friend was trying to tell him. "I killed your kin? Is that why your knickers are all in a bunch?"

Merlin stopped and looked at Arthur as if he'd grown a second head. Blue eyes blinked rapidly. "Actually, no."

"No? Your knickers aren't bunched?"

"No...You didn't kill him."

A beat passed, and then another. "What?"

"You were unconscious...as usual. I told him to leave Camelot alone." Merlin's eyes went back to the screen and the tapping resumed.

"You...scolded him?"

"Eh..." Merlin drawled out. "I wouldn't put it that way...Threatened him, perhaps."

"... Many people died during his attack." Arthur stated redundantly.

"Yes, and your father had managed to kill all the rest of his kind, and their dragon lords during the Purge...How, I will never know. Then, he tricked the last dragon lord into imprisoning Kilgharrah for more than twenty years. Kilgharrah was just waiting for Uther to step outside and face him...so he could eat him."

Arthur scoffed, "...and all my father did was hide in his castle, while we went...wait..." The whole picture began to come together in the king's mind. "I thought only a dragon lord could command a dragon?"

"Yep."

"So, how did you...?"

Merlin's fingers fell silent, and he pushed back from the desk. He placed his hands in his lap and drew a deep breath. It was obvious to the king that whatever information his friend was going to convey, weighed heavily on the man's ancient soul. His eyes met Arthur's. "Balinor was my father."

A pregnant pause stretched between them, while Arthur processed this information. "Oh..."

Merlin shrugged and resumed his work. The computer was soon making a series of unhappy beeping noises. "Oh, bugger all to sodding hell!" Merlin glared at the screen in front of him. It obviously hadn't done what he wished for. "Think I'm going to go for a ride and blow off some steam. Care to join me, Arthur?"

The king nodded half-heartedly. "Why not?"

He followed Merlin outside and turned towards the path that would lead him to the stables.

"Wrong type of ride, Arthur." Merlin commented dryly, as he headed around the back of the manor. Another large building next to the main driveway rose up before them. A keypad with numbers and a shiny black square underneath, was next to a very solid-looking door. Merlin proceeded to enter a series of numbers and then placed his thumb on the black square. It beeped and the sound of the door unlocking followed.

A flip of a light switch just to the right of the door, illuminated the level concrete floor and the space within. Inside the building were a few large canvas-covered items; each shaped oddly, and no two appeared the same size or shape. Around the walls were black and red metal shelves and drawers.

Merlin looked over the shapes, before nodding to himself. "The Jag."

"What's a 'Jag?'"

"Jaguar."

"A large cat? You mean to tell me, there are cages with large predators that you ride, under the cloths?"

Merlin guffawed, "Really? Oh, my friend..." The smile that the warlock sent his way was reminiscent of the old days. "You have so much to learn."

Still laughing, Merlin walked around a couple of massive lumps to one that seemed a bit smaller than the rest. He pulled off the tarp with a flourish and stepped back.

Arthur looked at the dark green metal vehicle that was unveiled. It was certainly different. He could honestly say he had never seen anything like it. He kept his voice even. "Very...impressive...What is it?"

Gaping like a fish, Merlin sputtered and wiped a hand over his face. He exhaled and stepped over, running his hand over the round, smooth metal lovingly. "This is a 1957 Jaguar XR SS. A lady friend...who wanted to be much more than friends, if you catch my meaning...bought this for me years ago, brand new. Only sixteen were ever made and shipped out, before there was a fire in the factory. I was over in the States at that time and happened to stop in a city called Las Vegas. If I had known this lady was there, I would have kept my head low. I hadn't seen her since the war. I was flying a Kittyhawk for the RAF, and she was performing at a USO concert. She asked if I liked cats since the plane's name began with 'kitty' and her English was good, but she had a thick accent..soooo, it came out sounding very sultry...

"We flirted a bit. I thought it was harmless...shared a rather fun evening or two together. Then, I flew out and she carried on to the next stop on her tour. She began writing me letters though...and I found out she was married. I decided it was time to change things at that point. I broke off any and all contact, faked my death and moved on."

Merlin chuckled and shook his head. "Never thought I'd run across her again, or if I did...that she wouldn't recognize me...but there I was...stuck...face-to-face with her, in the casino where she was headlining. She began badgering me about my secret to still appearing so young. I refused to tell her, of course, but we still ended up becoming quite good friends for a while. Then, one day she shows up at my flat with a car...this car. 'Said, since she didn't know how old I was, and she had obviously missed every one of my birthdays...This was my gift. A 'cat'...from a cougar. Odd sense of humor, that one."

"I thought you said this was called a Jaguar?"

"It is..."

"Then what does a cougar have to do with it?"

"She was, at that time...a cougar." He noted the look of confusion on Arthur's face. "Um...an older woman who prefers younger men...and since I appeared so much younger, she thought it was fitting."

"I see..." He really didn't, and had very little understanding of Merlin's story, but felt it best just to agree instead of looking ignorant.

Merlin wasn't fooled. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the opposite side of the car. "Go around and get in. Sit down, and buckle up. I want to show you what modern horsepower is."

Once settled in the car, Merlin pushed a button a remote similar to the one that moved the curtains in Arthur's room, and a large door opened up in front of them. He turned the key and the engine of the Jag roared to life. Merlin's smile filled his face. He placed sunglasses over his eyes and put the car in gear. "You might want to hang on."

"Why?" Arthur asked, with no small amount of trepidation.

"Let us just say, there's a reason Martha doesn't like to let me drive..."

* * *

 

_Well I went to bed in Memphis_

_And I woke up in Hollywood_

_I got a quarter_

_in my pocket_

_And I'd call you if I could_

_But I don't know why_

_I gotta fly..._

_...Like Steve McQueen_

_All I need's a fast machine_

_I'm gonna make it all right_

_~Sheryl Crow "Steve McQueen"_


	8. Chapter 8

_"Truth is not a reward for good behaviour, nor a prize for passing some tests. It cannot be brought about. It is the primary, the unborn, the ancient source of all that is. You are eligible because you are. You need not merit truth. It is your own. Just stop running away by running after. Stand still, be quiet."_

_-Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj_

* * *

White mist swirled around them, in the abyss between dimensions.

"You are toeing the line, Lancelot." She said, coming up next to him.

He smiled and shrugged, "Perhaps...and what if I was to cross it?"

"You saw what happened to Daniel Jackson, when he went directly against Anubis."

"I don't plan on doing anything like that."

"...And what do you plan on...Wait. Don't tell me, Lancelot."

"They need to be stopped, they have already found the last one."

"It went to them of it's own free will. We cannot be held responsible."

"But it didn't know that it would be imprisoned by the Ori. Hasn't it suffered enough? Haven't they all?"

"It is not for us to decide." She sighed, feeling his determination. "If the opportunity arises, I will do what I can. It must be up to them to figure out how to save us all."

* * *

 

Greg and Randy took the news of the loss rather well, considering the circumstances and their ages. Greg insisted he wanted to see Pops, and Gwaine explained that he would be able to at the memorial service.

Elaine remained upstairs in the boys' room, wanting to stay until they fell asleep. Gwaine made his way back down to the kitchen, where Leon waited. The blond man was facing out the window, looking into the dark night. His light blue eyes that once conveyed his many emotions were now guarded.

"So..." Gwaine said, entering the room and heading straight for the upper cabinet, where his sister kept her stash of alcohol.

"Your sister is not quite the 'evil old toad,' I had once pictured her to be."

Gwaine poured three glasses. He smirked, taking one for himself and handing another to Leon. He left the third out for the 'toad.' "Yeah. Well, things look different, after some time apart, eh?" He held out his glass.

Leon nodded and clinked the rim of his own to Gwaine's in understanding. "Well, you certainly do, my old friend."

"Are you a recent arrival to this time, or have you taken the long road, like Merlin did?" The dark-eyed man asked, as he sat down.

Leon blinked and sipped at his drink. "I guess I've taken the long road, if you mean ' have I lived out every Earth year since then.' I was surprised to find out from your sister that Merlin was even around...Although, it still doesn't compare to the initial shock of finding you here, or there, as it were."

"What all did my sister tell you?"

"Not much. She is quite stubborn, and I did not wish to press overly much with her obvious distress due to your grandfather. Tell me, the virus...was it originated by a Prior?"

Gwaine licked his lips and nodded, "I guess classified stuff like that, really doesn't apply to you, since you probably know more about them, than I do. That virus...or whatever it is...is just a trick to get people to follow them. Come through...threaten death and doom, if they don't follow the Book of Origin..."

Leon understood all too well. He had witnessed what the Priors and their bid for control had done to a few planets."Then, they come back a few days later. Heal everyone. Raise the dead and proclaim that the Ori they serve, have the power over life and death. Even many of the more advanced cultures out there are falling into their trap, after they proved they could wipe out an entire planet."

The Major stared at the amber liquid in his glass. "There was a Jaffa who came through the Gate...who had become a Prior...but he changed his mind. I guess it was quite the spectacle in the infirmary, when he used his staff to basically send out a wave of healing energy. Just after that though, he was consumed in flames for his disobedience to the Ori. Thanks to him though, we now have a cure for the Virus." He began to feel the anger bubbling through his veins. "They're going to now have a fight on their hands, with us having a way to combat it, but they still killed my grandfather. I'm starting to feel the need for some serious payback coming."

Leon offered a half-smile. "I think I have a couple things that may help. Although, how we are supposed to go about this...I'm not entirely sure." The ageless knight moved over to the coat rack near the back door, and fumbled around through the trench coat that hung there. He pulled out a book and tossed it on the table, in front of Gwaine. "A copy of the Book of Origin."

Picking it up, Gwaine began to flip through the pages. "...In a language that makes no sense to me. Merlin might have a better idea about this."

With his friend's focus on the book, Leon took the opportunity to remove something hidden under his coat on the rack. He laughed at the look on Gwaine's face when he sat the gleaming sword on the table.

"That's..." Gwaine's mouth was as wide as his eyes. He looked over the sword in awe, rendered completely speechless.

"...Arthur's sword." Leon sat down at the table. "It has been in my charge, all these centuries. I was instructed to keep it safe and hidden, but I never knew the real reason why. I know it had something to do with the Ancient who was working with Lancelot...a woman called Ganos Lal...but she also took on the name 'Morgan Le Fey,' of all things."

"Oh that's just grand! Arthur's gonna go ape-shit when he finds out someone named herself after his sister."

"Arthur is alive?" Leon felt his breath catch. He began to mentally decipher Lancelot's cryptic phrasing.

Gwaine pursed his lips and looked at his watch. "One a.m. here is..."

"About nine a.m. in Wales." Laney said, coming into the kitchen and finding her drink waiting. "I was thinking..."

"That's dangerous."

"Shut up, Gwaine." The siblings shared a glance that spoke of the warmth behind their banter. "After Boyd's first heart-attack, I made sure he had everything in order. Where he wanted to be buried..."

"...Next to Grandma Cait, on the ranch."

"Yes, I know that now...but I didn't, back when I first came to take care of him." She leveled a threatening gaze at Gwaine. "So...about the only thing I might need help with, is getting the body to Wyoming, and dealing with all the guests at the actual service."

"It might be a few days, at least, until he's released for burial." Her brother commented.

"Riiiiight...and you've been fired for a few days anyway."

"I'm not fired! I can't just get 'fired' from the military."

"Sorry." She hooked her fingers and continued, "'Temporarily relieved of duty'. Anyway...have Captain Kirk here take you over to see Merlin and them for a couple days. I can hold down the fort."

"Captain Kirk?" Leon's brow rose in confusion.

"Yeah. Well, you have too much hair for Picard, and although pretty cute, you're not quite at Captain Reynolds level of stud-liness."

Leon, obviously, had no clue as to how to respond to the woman. Gwaine bit his lip to keep from laughing. As it was, a small snorting sound still escaped. "Laney...I doubt he understands any pop culture/sci-fi reference, judging by the look on his face."

"Oh..." She threw back the rest of the drink in her glass and took a breath, embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. She purposefully turned her back to them and began fiddling absentmindedly with something on the counter. "Anyway...have him space beam you over there, or something, for a couple of days. The boys and I will be fine."

His eyes sparkled with tears of laughter. He looked at Leon; a silent question in his eyes.

The blond man nodded, "It would be easy to get us there. I'm just worried about my ship being detected."

"If it hasn't been found yet..." Gwaine shrugged, "...then no one is looking for it. So, I'd assume it's safe. Earth's defenses aren't quite up to par yet."

"I can have us over to wherever he is, in less than ten minutes, then." He picked up the sword and slid it back into its scabbard.

Swallowing the last of his drink, Gwaine looked at his sister one last time for confirmation. "You call if you need me. Got it?"

She nodded.

"Alright, let me call Merlin and give him the heads up."

* * *

 

The cold fog bank had rolled in off the coast, and the hill on which the ruins of Caerleon once resided, loomed eerily above it. Two men pulled their coats tighter around them. Autumn was rolling in quickly, and the drop in temperature wasn't unexpected.

Percival marveled at the newer materials of the clothing he had acquired over the past several months. They were so much thinner and lighter than his old stuff, but offered much more protection against the elements. He pulled the hood of his raincoat tighter around his face.

The familiar beam of light brightened the hilltop, and when it receded, Percival gasped, "Sir Leon?"

"Hello, Percival." Leon's eyes took in the sight of the large man. The two were nearly matched in height, but standing next to the bulky man, Leon look nearly emaciated, even though he was still in prime physical condition. Other than the clothing, and unlike Gwaine, not much had changed in Percival's outward appearance in the fifteen centuries. "Gwaine told me you caught a ride here with him through the Stargate."

"I did, albeit a bit unwittingly." Percival clasped the outstretched arm in greeting. "Leon, this is Mickey Smith, a good friend."

Mickey smiled and shook Leon's hand. He turned to Gwaine. "I'm surprised you didn't call Merlin to meet you."

"I did, but there was no answer. I called Gwen too, and she had no idea where those guys were. She found Merlin's phone, a couple of cold cups of coffee, and no sign of them. Which is odd, because I thought his recovery time would have taken a bit longer."

The two men from Torchwood nodded their agreement. Mickey motioned to the waiting SUV and they began moving towards it. "Well, I got a text from him about six a.m. Something about his computer refusing to do what he wanted...or Arthur breaking it just by glaring at it. So, we might as well head on out there and see what's up."

* * *

 

Leon watched the world go by out the window, as they drove along. It was strange, but not surprising, to see how much the world had changed during his absence. If there was one thing he had learned from his travels, was that life was not stagnant. "You said Gwen is back as well?"

Gwaine nodded from his seat. "She's going to go nuts when she sees you, I think."

Leon was reluctant to ask, "What of her son?" He and Merlin had stepped in as father figures for the infant child, in Arthur's absence. He loved the child, almost as much as he had loved his own children. He pushed the thought out of his mind before it was fully formed.

"Aurie?" Percival responded from the front passenger seat. "He loves it when I make funny faces at him."

"...but I think he likes Merlin's bubbles even more than that." Gwaine laughed.

"I'd like Merlin's bubbles more than Percival's face, myself." Mickey said from the driver's seat and was promptly punched in the shoulder by his friend. "Oy! Driving here!"

"Speaking of driving..." Gwaine's voice held a hint of awe. "Is that what I think it is?" He pointed ahead on the road to a car coming towards them at a high speed.

"If you think it's a classic Jag, then, yes..." Grinning, Micky began flashing his headlights at the oncoming vehicle. "...and I only know of one person around these parts who has such a car."

"It's the street version of the old fifties racing Jag, right?"

"Yep." He slowed down the SUV, made sure there were no other cars on the road, and parked sideways across it, blocking both lanes. "Want to see something cool?"

Mickey climbed out of the driver's seat and stood in the road, directly in the path of the oncoming car.

The other three men glanced at each other nervously, as the Jag showed no sign of slowing. Just before it seemed like the collision would be eminent, the driver of the green car hit his brakes and cranked the wheel, bringing it to a perfectly executed sideways stop next to Mickey. They could vaguely make out two men in the car, as Mickey leaned down and began talking to the driver through the open top.

Gwaine clambered out, and began appraising the car. It was in pristine factory condition, which was surprising for the age of the vehicle. Although not an expert on British automobiles, he knew this one was something special. Pops had been a big fan of Steve McQueen, and had introduced Gwaine to the actor's movies and old racing videos, right after he had taken custody of his grandchildren. It was from that, that Gwaine knew this style of car. Only a handful of them existed and this one in front of him was a beauty. He didn't even glance at the car's occupants, until a voice called out to him.

"I swear Gwaine, if you actually drool on my car, I'm going to use your hide to clean it."

"Merlin?!" His jaw hit the pavement. "You gotta give me a ride in this...please? I'm grieving here. I need something to cheer me up, and I swear, my friend...this would do it."

Mickey stepped back as Merlin got out of the car. He took off the driving glasses and moved towards his friend. His face was somber. "What do mean 'grieving?'"

Gwaine offered him a sad smile. "Pops got sick from the Prior Virus."

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Merlin reached for his friend and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Biting back the tears that suddenly threatened, Gwaine cleared his throat and pulled back after a few moments. "So..."

"Well, if you want a ride, you may have to pry Arthur out of the car. I think his knuckles are permanently affixed to the the door handle." He leaned in, and said in a conspiratorial whisper. "You should have heard him squeal like a girl around some of the turns."

Gwaine smiled, but asked in a serious voice. "How's he doing? Are you sure driving was good for his injuries and stuff?"

"Well, I used my magic on him yesterday. Physically, he's fit as ever." Merlin glanced back at the passenger in his car. He seemed to rethink his choice of bringing Arthur for a ride that morning. "Perhaps, I should have had his second time in a vehicle be in something more...tame."

A thought seemed to strike Merlin suddenly. "What are you doing here? I doubt Landry would have approved the use of the Prometheus, just for you to come tell me about your grandfather."

"No...I hitched a ride with an old friend. Found myself in a bit of trouble at work...and with Pops, I...I just needed to get out of there for a couple days."

"Don't mean to be a stick in the mud, but we should probably get off of the road." Mickey commented.

* * *

 

"You don't want to get out?" Percival asked, turning around in his seat.

Leon was staring out the tinted window, thankful that those outside couldn't see him. He turned to Percival. "This all seems so odd, like some surreal dream. I think I could face Arthur, more than I could Merlin at this point. I remember how fanatically he searched for the two of you, when you went missing. I can't imagine what he might have done when I disappeared."

Percival nodded his understanding. He could sense the weight of guilt that the Senior Knight carried on his shoulders. He sat quietly in the SUV with Leon and watched the scene outside. Merlin, glanced at Mickey, then turned towards his car. He yelled something at the passenger.

A slightly shaken Arthur climbed out and held himself in a way that made Leon chuckle softly. "I don't think I can ever recall him looking so unnerved, but then again, it has been a long time since I've seen him."

They watched as Arthur seemed to set his nerves aside; a wide grin started blossoming, and a sparkle in the man's eyes made Leon realize that it wasn't just nerves, but also an excited rush of adrenaline. Merlin turned towards Arthur and laughed. Gwaine moved around to the passenger seat and climbed in. Following suit, the warlock sat down behind the wheel and the car roared back to life. With a squeal of tires on the damp asphalt, the green Jaguar sped off in the direction it had come from.

Mickey patted Arthur's shoulder and the two men began heading towards the SUV.

"You should probably get out and say 'hello' to him." Percival commented.

Leon glanced at him, reaching for the latch. "You're probably right."

* * *

 

Arthur's heart was still pounding from the exhilarating rush of fear and adrenaline, that he experienced during the car ride. He was partially thankful to be on his own two feet again, without the trees racing past at an obnoxious speed, but he was also already planning for the next time. "That was..."

Mickey laughed, "I know...Well, actually I don't, because he's never taken me out in that car, but he's a maniac driver in general. Although, he knows exactly how to handle the vehicles to make you feel like you're going to die any moment, but it's the greatest rush, almost as if he is out to prove that he is alive. His true passion is probably flying though."

"Flying?"

"Yeah, airplanes."

"I've heard of those, but I've yet to see one."

"They're like great evil beasts, that dominate the skies with their noise." Percival came forward to greet Arthur.

The king, still grinning from ear to ear, just laughed. He was surprised by the next voice he heard. A voice he knew as well as his own, from a man who had known him longer than anyone else.

"They're not that bad, I'm sure. Flying is actually quite a wonderful experience."

"Leon?" Arthur crowed in surprise. "How...? You know, I don't even care how or why!"

Over the centuries, Leon had learned to hide his true emotions behind a facade of bravado and apathy. Nothing, though, could stop the tears that began stinging the corners of his eyes at seeing Arthur alive and well.

* * *

 

"I never thought I'd see you again, Sire." Leon said softly, in the backseat.

"If you had asked me, after Camlann, I would have thought the same. Now, however, things seem to be falling into place."

"To what end, though?" It was strange how easily Leon fell back into the role of Arthur's second-in-command, when just a day previous, he was questioning his devotion to his apparent eternal quest. In one aspect, the fact that they were riding along in a motorized vehicle, made him feel the weight of the years upon him. Yet, at the same time, he knew this was what he had been waiting for, and the man he had been, came back to him easily.

"Of that, I am uncertain. Perhaps, with us all here together again, we might be able to figure that out." Arthur patted the knight's shoulder. "No matter. For now, I am just happy to be alive, with my family and close friends by my side, once again."

Leon nodded his agreement. He tried to think of what to say, but he found himself coming up short for conversation.

Arthur seemed to feel the awkwardness of the silence, just as strongly. "I can't thank you enough, you and Merlin, for taking care of Guinevere, after I...Well, I didn't quite die, but it was rather close to it."

Smiling, Leon nodded, "How did you return, or survive? Gwaine explained how he and Percival ended up here. He also said Merlin had lived every year of it, but he didn't tell me how you or Her Ladyship, came to be here."

"I'm still trying to understand it myself." Arthur answered truthfully. Then began recalling his last memories, followed by his brief bouts of semi-consciousness along the way, until he ultimately opened his eyes to see Gwaine after the surgery. Percival and Mickey listened intently from the front of the SUV, both hearing for the first time, Arthur's side of the tale.

"Gwaine, since he wasn't apart from me for as long, has been easier to...speak with...about this stuff. Although, his duties to his native country, have been keeping him rather preoccupied. I've not had much of a chance to speak with Sir Percival here, but I'm hoping that can be remedied, now that I'm back to health."

"I look forward to it, Sire." The large man smiled from the passenger seat.

"Mickey, right?"

"Yep" The dark skinned man in the driver's seat responded.

"I have to say, for my third experience in a...car...you seem much better at controlling one of these things, than that formerly useless servant of mine."

"Formerly useless, or formerly a servant?" Percival asked, with a grin.

"Both."

Percival nodded thoughtfully. "Gwaine mentioned the two of you had a bit of a rough start."

"We just needed a few days to find some common ground and get to know each other again." He cast a pointed glance at Leon. "I hope to be able to do the same with you, my friend."

* * *

 

"You alright?" Merlin asked, as he and Gwaine drove along.

Gwaine had his eyes closed. His elbow hung out the window and he was enjoying the purr of the motor, combined with the cool breeze rushing over his head. "Eh, been a rough week."

Merlin couldn't contain his curiosity. "How did you get over here?"

"As I said, a friend gave me a lift."

"What friend?"

"An old one."

Merlin was tempted to pull the car over and refuse to move it until Gwaine gave him an answer. "I could use magic to have you tell me."

"But you won't." Gwaine started smirking. "Let me drive and then I'll tell ya."

"No."

"Then, you'll never find out."

Glancing sideways at the roguish man, Merlin tried to determine if he was being serious. "I've never let anyone else drive this car...ever."

"Yeah, well..." Gwaine offered Merlin a tight-lipped smile and a shrug.

"No."

"C'mon, I know how to drive Merlin, and I understand how much this thing is worth."

"Do you really? The last one of these that went up for auction, had a nearly two-million dollar price tag on it...and this isn't one of those knock-off kit cars, that go for a couple hundred grand."

"So...what...this one would be about two and a quarter because it's completely original, no restoration?"

Merlin's lips tightened. He groaned and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm even considering it. Do you know who gave me this car?"

"It was a gift? Nice! Was she hot?" Gwaine asked.

The corner of Merlin lip lifted as he remembered the blond, German-born, bombshell. "Very."

"Who was it?"

"Her name was Marlene Déitreich."

Gwaine felt himself choking, "Okay, what do I need to do to drive this? Anything you want, it's yours."

Merlin sighed and muttered a curse, but at the same time, he pulled the car over to the shoulder. "One scratch...one single chip from a rock...a single fingerprint on the steering wheel..."

"...that'll be difficult, unless you want me to drive with my knees?"

Pausing, Merlin reconsidered his words. He stopped the car and set the brake. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Gwaine hooted in triumph and leapt out of the car.

As he tapped his fingers across the steering wheel, third and fourth thoughts crossed his mind. He took the key out of the ignition and got out of the car. Dangling the keys in front of Gwaine's eyes, he asked, "Who?"

Like a cat following a string, Gwaine's eyes watched the keys. "Leon."

Merlin flipped the keys into the cup of his palm. "Bullocks! Who?" He didn't like the feeling that Gwaine was playing with him, with something like this.

"Seriously. Leon. He's got his own ship and has been flying around out in space for the last fifteen hundred years."

"Where is he, then?"

"He was in the SUV with Percival, when Mickey stopped you."

"Why didn't he get out?"

"I think he's afraid of what you're gonna think, like he stranded you here or something. I don't know!" Gwaine threw up his hands in frustration. "Can I have the keys now?"

Merlin bit his lip. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and very reluctantly, he held out the keys. Gwaine snatched them out of his friend's hand with a grin.

The leather of the seat was still supple and well cared for, with nary a crack in it. The light wood and chrome of the steering wheel shone with a beautiful polish. The black material of the dashboard barely had a speck of dust, and no sign of sun damage.

The drove along in silence for a while, before Merlin finally began to speak. "What happened with Pops? I know you said it was the Virus, but do you want to talk about it?"

Gwaine downshifted, as they entered a turn. "He caught it while getting gas at the station. These Ori and their Priors; they've been spreading this Virus, or whatever the hell it is, all over the galaxy. I've been a bit concerned, but now..."

"...Now, it's personal." Merlin finished for him. "We should probably head back to the house."

They had passed the turnoff to Merlin's driveway. When Merlin didn't argue, Gwaine took that as permission to keep going. He slowed the car down, and turned back towards the turnoff. "You haven't asked me any more about Leon."

"What's there to ask?" There was a sharp tone in Merlin's voice. He didn't know what to think yet, with the revelation about his erstwhile friend's situation. Gwaine and Percival didn't have much of a choice, when they were brought through the Stargate into the current century. Arthur, Gwen, and Aurie were in a similar situation. Merlin was at the same time, both thankful and annoyed, at finding out that Leon was still alive...not that he would have changed a thing about his extremely long life. Yet, knowing Leon was out there, also alive, might have made the darker times easier, and the wonderful times better. It would have given him someone to talk to, and to share the memories with. "I'm sure I'll get the answers when he's ready to give them."

"Fair enough."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything!"

"Martha and I have decided..."

"What?"

"Well...we're...gonna start trying to have kids."

Gwaine laughed loudly. "That's...wow, that's great!"

"You don't think...it's odd? I mean...I can't die, it seems like. I keep going back and forth in my mind on it. I want to be a father again, but is it really fair to bring kids into the picture when I'm like this?"

"Merlin, buddy, calm down. Any kid is going to be so lucky with the two of you for parents." Gwaine turned onto the driveway.

When Merlin first brought him and Percival here, they had entered from the far side of the property, through a hidden gate that was Merlin's personal shortcut.

Afterwards, they had soon learned about the actual paved driveway, the manor house, and all the outlying buildings. However, they had all been too busy getting ready for the wedding, for Gwaine to get a chance to find out much more about what Merlin had around the property.

He carefully drove the classic car up to the manor, noticing that in their detour, the Torchwood SUV had beaten them. Merlin held his breath, as Gwaine pulled the Jag into the garage. He released it when the engine was turned off, and brake set. "See, not a smudge!"

Gwaine helped Merlin store the car properly, while eyeing the other tarped vehicles.

"Maybe later, I'll show you what's under them."

Clucking his tongue in disappointment, he followed Merlin outside and towards the front of the manor, where the others had been standing around.

Merlin stopped and glared at Leon. He wasn't sure if he was upset that the knight disappeared in the first place, or that he had lived for centuries thinking that he was just another friend lost.

* * *

 

The long drive up from the road, wound through manicured lawn and hedges. The large greystone manor house loomed ahead.

"It is so hard to believe that the castle used to be here." Arthur commented, more to himself than any of the other men in the car.

Leon sat quietly. He had visited Earth a few times, in the course of his travels. Each time, it had been brief and he had avoided any of the lands around Camelot. It was heart-wrenching to see the area where he was born and raised, so changed over the years.

As if reading his thoughts, Percival commented, "Away from the house and gardens, much of the land actually appears much like it did in the sixth century. I mean it's obviously different, but..."

"I understand." The elder knight stated.

Pulling up in front of the house, they were greeted by Gwen and Cassie. Arthur had barely taken two steps from the vehicle, when his wife began to admonish him for not telling her that he was leaving...until she saw the other person step out of the back of the large, black SUV. Gasping, her hands flew to her mouth with a squeal of delight. She thought nothing of rushing forward and engulfing Leon in a hug.

Leon returned the gesture, somewhat hesitant at first, glancing at Arthur for permission.

The king nodded slightly. He had been told that Leon and Merlin had spent nearly two years with Gwen, after Camlann. So, it made sense that she considered them close friends. On top of that, Guinevere had already known Leon from a very young age.

"I knew you would return to us, somehow." The queen smiled through her tears.

From Cassie's arms, Aurie began writhing and struggling to be put down. She did, and the toddler, holding onto her fingers, made a few tentative steps towards the knight. "Yon, Yon!" He babbled out.

He stood frozen, watching the boy wobble and bounce. Aurie's hazel-blue eyes shone with familiarity upon Leon. The man swallowed, unaware of the eyes of the others upon him. Letting go of Cassie's fingers, the boy propelled himself forward. Instinct alone, caused Leon to sweep the child into his arms before he fell to the ground. "Look at you, my little Prince. Walking already." The knight's voice was filled with love and pride.

Arthur's smile, unseen by the others, faltered. He felt a stab of emotion course through him. It occurred to the former king, that Leon had been more of a father to the young prince, than he himself had been. His own feelings caught him by surprise. He knew he should be grateful that Leon and Merlin had been there for Gwen, when he was not able to be.

He was shaken from his thoughts as Merlin's car pulled up nearby, with Gwaine behind the wheel. His eyes narrowed at how comfortable the two of them appeared together. Glancing around at everyone, Arthur suddenly felt rather alone. Large fingers patted his shoulder, startling him.

Percival smiled down at him. "It'll take time to adjust, Sire. You just got back on your feet, and the reason we are all here, is for you. Don't forget that."

"When did you become wise, Sir Percival?"

The bigger man shrugged. The two of them looked back over at the gathering to see Merlin glaring daggers, and Leon putting on a front of sheer boredom.

Merlin appeared to come to some sort of decision. He walked forward, gave Leon a smile that did little to thaw the icy stare of his eyes. Politely, he said, "Glad to have you back with us, Sir Leon."

"Thank you, Lord Merlin." The blond knight replied with equal formality.

The warlock turned and walked up the stairs, leaving everyone else standing on the pavement below. Arthur suddenly didn't feel as guilty for his touch of jealousy. He knew, logically, that it had more to do with his own regret than anything...but he obviously wasn't the only one feeling a slight sting, from the knight's sudden return.


	9. Chapter 9

_"The first time her laughter unfurled its wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same."_

_― Brian Andreas_

* * *

The cool drizzle felt good against the bare skin on his back. His forearms rested on the balcony and he inhaled the damp night air deeply. Shaking his head, he tried once again to clear his thoughts.

Delicate fingers traced down his spine and he shivered violently from the unexpected touch.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He smiled and turned around, sweeping Martha into a hug. He kissed her passionately.

Pulling back, her brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

"When did you get home?"

"Just a bit ago. There appears to be a party going on downstairs, so why are you up here sulking?"

"I'm not sulking. I was thinking, and meditating."

She took a moment to look deep into the dark blue pools of his iris'. Martha asked,"What's going on?"

"I've told you about the hole I've always felt inside me." She nodded and brushed her fingers along his jaw. "I thought once Arthur returned, that it would heal. For so long, I have been able to keep it in the background; always there, but never in the way. It never interfered with my life and how I wanted to live it.

"...I can feel it growing." He turned away from her, to stare out over the darkened moor.

"What do you mean?" Martha's voice was laced with concern.

"When I had teleported with Gwaine and Percival over here, I felt a bit exhausted after the spell. I chalked it up to the fact that I've rarely travelled so far, and with more than one person. Plus, it didn't seem to hinder my magic after that. I was able to teleport in the SGC, by myself, with no issues whatsoever.

" When I tried to heal Arthur, though, and there was that reaction to the radiation...or whatever it was...I felt like something was trying to break through...as if there was a creature living inside that hole, gnawing at the edges. Ever since then, each time I draw on my magic, it feels like there is just a little bit less available to me.

"I shouldn't be feeling fatigued, even with the healing I did manage to accomplish. Things like that...yes, I would use energy, but I should also feel invigorated from it."

"You said you slept for nearly twelve hours after I left." She commented, her physician's mind working.

He nodded, "I dreamt, and it was vivid. I saw the web of fate, or destiny...whatever it was that came to me just before I cast the recent spell on Arthur. Then, I was back in China, just after Ning died...and the firework shot off towards the stars and turned into a dragon...not the Chinese style, but the western style. It flew into the stars, and the trail it left was similar to one I saw very faintly in the web."

Her hand rubbed circles on his back in a comforting manner.

"...and then, to have Leon suddenly come back today..."

"I met him downstairs, and Gwaine told me about his grandfather. You should really go down and speak with them."

"Naw, I'm not ready for that yet."

"So you're just planning on hiding out here all night?"

"Pretty much."

"Why?"

He shook his head, a lecherous grin forming. He turned towards her, pulled her in tightly, and began suckling her neck. His nimble fingers loosened the buttons of her blouse. "Because, I don't want to talk to them right now." Merlin breath was hot against her skin.

Martha's breath came haltingly as her shirt fell to the floor, and her husband continued kissing his way down to her shoulder and collarbone. She felt the slickness of his skin across his back, her hands kneading against the tight, lean muscles. "I obviously don't need to ask what you do want to do..."

* * *

 

Soft music from a horned instrument filtered out of the bright kitchen. It echoed off the marble counters and the white, tiled floors. A woman's voice, sultry, seductive and raspy, sang with the jazz accompaniment. Arthur took a moment to chuckle softly to himself as the scene before him played out. Merlin and Martha were swaying together to the tune, while the sound of coffee percolated in the background.

_'The difficult, I'll do right now. The impossible, will take a little while...'_

Merlin whispered something into his wife's ear. She, in turn, giggled and slapped his shoulder, causing him to laugh. It was an unusual scene for Arthur to see, but he felt a smile forming, knowing that his friend was, for once, truly happy. That alone was something Arthur had hardly ever witnessed.

He had seen Merlin smile, and enjoy himself in the past, but this rare glimpse into a life beyond Merlin's prior servitude, astounded him. He wondered if that was how he looked, when he was alone with Guinevere.

_'Crazy, he calls me. Sure, I'm crazy, crazy in love...am I.'_

He felt a presence behind him and turned to see Leon standing by, also watching the scene of domestic bliss. The look on the knight's face was unreadable.

"I'm sure you've experienced plenty of love yourself, throughout all your years." Arthur commented quietly.

Leon tore his eyes away from the scene. "Not really. I never stayed in one place long enough."

"All those centuries alone? I can't imagine what it must have been like."

The knight shrugged, "It wasn't that bad. I found plenty of companionship when I needed to. Nothing like what he has, obviously. It reminds me of seeing him with Princess Mithian.

The song had changed to something a bit more upbeat. Merlin and Martha's bodies separated. Only their hands were still together, as he spun her around and then back in close to him.

"I still can't believe he married Mithian." Arthur laughed softly.

Smirking, Leon nodded, "I thought it was odd at first, but after seeing them together, they were quite the couple. I, personally, can't believe Gwaine is their descendant."

Arthur's eyebrows pinched together and he looked at Leon, attempting to discern if the knight was joking. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Um...no." He was surprised that Arthur didn't already know this. "Gwaine's sister told me. I find it rather interesting that Merlin's children with Mithian were named Blasine and Gawain, and here we are fifteen centuries later and you have Elaine and Gwaine...both names derived from their ancestors."

Snorting softly, the king nodded, "I don't know if that surprises me as much as finding out they're related, period. It definitely explains a lot of things."

"Doesn't it, though?"

"Mmm, I smell coffee!" Mickey Smith's voice came loudly from behind them. "Morning." He said to Arthur and Leon, as he passed them and made his way into the kitchen.

Merlin and Martha looked up, realizing their private moment had come to an end.

"Don't stop on my account." The young man said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Just make yourself at home." Merlin commented dryly, and squeaked when he received a poke in his ribcage. Martha laughed, pulling away from him.

The warlock smiled. He lifted his eyes to the doorway and noticed the two men still standing there. Merlin stared at them both. A bit of unease plagued his thoughts for a moment. He took a breath and the smile returned. "You two may as well join us and quit acting like a couple of voyeurs, gawking there in the doorway."

"Yeah, you heard him. Quit gawking." Gwaine chuckled, as he and Percival entered the room.

Within a few minutes, the kitchen was filled with life as Guinevere joined the rest, with Aurie bouncing on her hip. With all the people around, the conversation was kept light, and Merlin was thankful he didn't have to try and discuss anything with Leon yet. Leon appeared to have the same feelings, and avoided talking to the warlock, as well.

"Jack and the others should be here soon." Mickey commented, drinking down his coffee.

Merlin's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Why are they coming?"

"Well, when we were all talking last night, Arthur mentioned something about wanting to go hunting out in the woods, because he said you all used to do that for fun. I thought, instead of hunting any of the critters out there, we could paint the forest instead...and well, Torchwood has paintball gear for morale purposes."

"I really don't understand what correlation there could be between 'painting the trees' and hunting." Arthur said. When Mickey had mentioned the idea the evening before, Percival and Gwaine seemed to become rather excited by the prospect, while Leon and Arthur were left pondering their confusion. "It seems like a very girly thing to do."

"About like poetry." Leon mumbled into his hand, receiving a glare from Arthur.

Merlin nodded thoughtfully, ignoring the king's last statement. "That sounds like a right good idea. Torchwood versus Camelot?"

"And no using magic!" Mickey warned.

"Aw...that takes all the fun out of it." Merlin stubbed his toe against the ground in an adolescent pout.

Not too long after, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, and Gwen Cooper came through the kitchen door. "Good morning, children! I brought toys!" Harkness called out, holding up a couple large duffle bags of gear.

Merlin gave Jack a tight-lipped smile. He would tolerate the man for his wife and his friends, but he still didn't have to like him. He turned towards Arthur, hearing the king taking a sharp breath in.

"What is it?"

The blond man was looking directly at Gwen Cooper. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words.

"Ye might want ta close yer trap, before you start catchin' flies, eh?" The dark-haired Welsh woman said, with a smile.

"Merlin...she looks just like..."

Gasping, it finally dawned on him as to why Gwen Cooper had always seemed rather familiar to him. Before, he had dismissed it as nothing more than a vague coincidence that she resembled someone from his past, whom he could never place. Now, though, he looked upon her with different eyes. "Lady Helen of Mora."[1]

Leon glanced at the two men, and his eyes widened as he turned towards the woman. He chuckled and nodded, "She is the spitting image."

"Um...one of you boys like to tell me what's going on?"

"You look just like a woman who tried to kill Arthur." Guinevere responded for them, when she realized the three men weren't going to answer.

Gwen rolled her eyes and offered a tight-lipped grin. "Well, isn't that just the bee's knees!"

"Actually, more like the woman who was killed by someone, who then took on her looks as a disguise, in order to try and kill Arthur, after her own son was beheaded on my first day in Camelot." Merlin corrected.

"What?" Arthur's attention was now trained on Merlin.

The warlock rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "My first day in Camelot was the beginning of the celebrations for when Kilgharrah...the Great Dragon..." He offered, for those who didn't know the name. "...was captured. I walk into the city to see a man beheaded, and an old crone cursing Uther for killing her son."

"What an introduction!" Gwaine laughed, "No wonder you kept your head down."

"Tell me about it! Anyway, after a couple days in and out of the stocks for insulting a rightfully royal prat..."

"Merlin..."

"Well, you were! Don't even think about denying it. I'm sure Gwen and Leon will back me up on that account...Guinevere, not Gwen..." He stated to differentiate between the two women.

The queen nodded her head, while spooning mashed fruit into her son's mouth. "I have to say, he is right, Arthur. You were a bit...spoiled...back then."

Leon snickered behind his hand. "Sorry, Sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, before motioning to Merlin. "Please continue your story."

"Anyway, I was in and out of the stocks for insulting him. Oh, and thrown in the dungeon...but then, Gaius arranged for me to work with...Oh, I can't remember his name. Your other servant at the time..."

"Why do you think I would remember his name? I went through a servant a week back then!" He noticed Merlin gaping at him. "Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin's mouth shut with a snap.

"Are you going to continue your tale?" Gwaine asked.

"Well, I would, but someone told me to shut up." He was too busy chuckling to notice the hand coming up behind him to smack the back of his head. "Ow! Okay, you got lucky with that one."

Arthur smirked triumphantly.

"May I finish now?" He waited for Arthur to nod. "The Lady Helen, of the Isle of Mora, was scheduled to perform at a feast. At some point the old crone must have killed the real Lady Helen, and taken her place in the castle. I took her a tonic for her voice, and found a magic book and a poppet, in her chambers...which was odd, but..." He shrugged and rambled on. "I was new. I knew it didn't feel right, but what was I to say! So...when she was performing at the feast, something in her voice was casting a very old magic that put nearly everyone to sleep.

"I covered my ears, but it didn't seem to affect me anyway, and I used my magic to drop the chandelier. Then, as people started waking up, she threw a dagger, and my instinct took over and pulled this cabbage head out of the way."

Leon laughed, "I remember that! That was the night Uther decided your reward would be to have a position as Arthur's manservant."

Despite the awkwardness the day before, Merlin found himself chuckling along with his long lost friend. "Some reward, eh?"

Arthur stared off in thought. "That was the first time you saved me, with your magic, wasn't it?"

Fathomless blue eyes turned towards the king. "The first, yes...but by no means was it the last, old friend. I just wish I could have saved you at Camlann."

"Merlin, none of us would be here now, if you had." Gwaine smiled and reminded him. "...and you gotta think, you had a pretty amazing track record for keeping his ass intact."

Turning back to Gwen, Merlin concluded his story. "So...I guess I never noticed, but you look just like the Lady Helen."

"That's...well...I right don't know how to describe it." Gwen bit her lip. This wasn't the first time she had been accused of looking like someone from the past.[2]

"Just don't sing for us, Gwen, and it'll be all good." Ianto implored to her.

Mickey grabbed one of the duffle bags and began pulling out gear. "'Bout time we got dressed and head out to the forest, yeah? Teams of four or five?

"We have enough for five each. Percival, which team are you going to be on?" Merlin asked, moving forward to grab a padded chest piece. He tossed it over to Arthur.

"With you guys, of course!" He cringed and glanced at his friends from Torchwood. "Sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry for, my friend!" Jack grinned, "That just means I get two beautiful ladies on my team. Right, Martha?" He winked at her and she nodded her agreement. He smiled at Ianto, who stood quietly in the background. "...A very handsome man...and of course, Mickey Mouse."

Arthur grimaced. He eyed the vest suspiciously and looked over to find that Leon seemed as lost as he was, about the entire scenario. "Will someone please explain what the hell it is we're doing?"[3]

* * *

 

Fingers rested gingerly on the triggers, as the five men crept forward. Arthur instinctively took up the lead, the three knights and the warlock fell into position without question. The king smiled. He felt a measure of true pride course through him, as he realized this would be the first time with Merlin openly fighting at his side.

He knew that the servant had always been there before, but the younger man had always been somewhat of an oddity among them, who Arthur always felt needed protecting. Now, though, with no longer needing to hide who he was, the centuries of experience were very telling of the man he had become. Just as Arthur had realized, not so very long ago, Merlin had changed. Now the heart of the warrior within him, once hidden away, was there for all to see.

In practiced silence, they moved forward through the trees. The rush of adrenaline coursed through their veins. Once the rules of engagement had been explained to Arthur, and he was given a chance to practice with the new weapon, he found himself grinning like a madman, ready and eager for the promised confrontation.

Leon's return to his side felt right. That was the only way Arthur was able to describe it. Merlin had been vague in his recollection of what had happened to the knight who was Arthur's second-in-command. It had felt like a part of him was missing, without the steady countenance of the wise nobleman. Leon had changed. They all had, if he was to be honest, but even despite those changes and Arthur's recent bout of emotions, the king was glad to have the knight there with him.

Percival, having been the only one other than Arthur...born so long ago and then suddenly thrust into this new era...had adapted well. It gave hope to Arthur that he would be able to come fully to terms with it himself. The large man's presence behind him, gave him a confidence he didn't know if he could have attained otherwise.

He was actually more surprised by Gwaine, than any of the others. The roguish knight, who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut on patrols in the past was still there, but Arthur noted how much more natural the air rifle appeared in the man's hands. Now, at home in his own time, the true soldier characteristic of the man shone through brightly, and Arthur found himself learning more about his friend than he ever dreamed existed, beneath the shallow, drunken exterior. Gwaine easily pushed past the emotion of his recent loss and focused, more than Arthur had ever known him to, on the task at hand.

Along the way, Arthur had motioned to Gwaine to take the point position, relying on the man's expertise in this style of war game. Gwaine held up his hand in a closed fist. A common signal to stop. Pointing with two fingers to his eyes, he then pointed to different areas of the forest. Arthur almost laughed, but bit his lip to remain silent.

Hand signals had been used in various combat situations from the beginning of time, but when Gwaine joined with Arthur and the knights, the roguish man had introduced some new ones to the group. At first, the king had scoffed, thinking many of the signals to be the work of a drunken madman. However, they soon became standard practice among the Knights of Camelot. Now, of course, Arthur understood a bit more about where they came from, and he appreciated the useful skill, more than he would ever express.

With bated breath, they waited for the king's approval of their silently transmitted plan. With a wicked gleam in his eye and a slight nod of his head, Arthur gave the signal.

* * *

 

Guinevere sat looking out the window, off in the direction where the rest had gone. They had offered for her to go along, but she declined, wishing to spend the day with her son...Also, the prospect of seeing them all shoot at each other, when she had so recently gotten her husband back, didn't sit well with her.

"They'll be fine." Cassie said, coming up to sit next to the queen. "I've played Paintball before, other than some bruises and welts, it's really rather harmless."

"Mmm, I'll take your word for it." Taking a breath, Guinevere turned toward the girl. "What do you plan on doing now? I know you came over here to help care for Arthur, during his recovery, but now that he's healed, will you be returning to the States?"

Cassie nodded. She hadn't gotten a chance to experience much of the UK, and although she wanted to, the young nurse knew she needed to head home. "I would love to stay, but I have a feeling I'm going to be more useful back home now."

Guinevere nodded her understanding. Her eyes turned back toward the window, just in time to see ten people...who, when they had left, were all wearing the dark body armor and clothing...coming onto the lawn, now covered head-to-toe in a rainbow of colors.

"I think I'll go let Harri know, her washer is going to be getting a nice workout tonight." Cassie said with a laugh.

* * *

 

Laughter and merriment rang through the halls of the manor house. Beer, and other drinks, flowed freely. Everyone had been given the opportunity to shower and clean up, after the day of fun in the woods.

What ages ago, would have been a hunting trip to bond with the knights, had turned into something even more magical. Bonds of long lost friendship were renewed, refreshed and rejuvenated.

_Merlin and Leon had stood alone at the end. Together, they took down the last remnants of the Torchwood team, Mickey and Jack...only to return to the rendezvous point and be assaulted with the remainder of the paint, leftover in all the others' weapons from the day._

_They had trailed behind the rest, back towards the house, looking like a couple of dripping, overflowing paint palettes. Merlin had finally broached the question that had been plaguing him since the day before. "What happened to you?"_

_Leon steeled himself to answer, "I should have died, on that bloodied field in France, but Lancelot came to me...He's still, sort of alive, you know..._

_"Yes. I've spoken with him recently, but I haven't told Arthur about him yet."_

_Nodding, the knight continued, "I was told of my own destiny that had begun when the druids gave me the water from the Cup of Life. Did you know, that drinking directly from the vessel, grants a sort of immortality?"_

_"No, I didn't." Merlin said thoughtfully._

_"It's not magic either, but a technology beyond even the Asgard's understanding. I was given a quest and sent to the stars. I didn't know you still lived. I'm sorry, my friend."_

_Merlin thought for a few moments and shook his head. ""No, I guess you wouldn't have. It wasn't until after you disappeared, that Mithian and I recognized I hadn't aged. I never drank from the Cup though, so I don't know how or why I managed to survive.. I suppose I can forgive you then, for never coming by...never calling...never asking to borrow my Tupperware..."_

_"I should have." Leon paused, "What is Tupperware?"_

_Laughing, Merlin held out his hand. A wide smile beamed from his face. His eyes held no hint of resentment, only warmth. "Well, you'll know better for next time, right?"_

_Leon couldn't stop the smile that graced his own face. He clasped Merlin's forearm. The colors of the paint splotches mixed together._

"...as I came to...with this big lug standing over me, shaking me a bit...all I could think about, after seven years of being away, was the freaking Wizard of Oz." Gwaine laughed heartily.

"...and we weren't in Kansas. I know that now." Percival mentioned. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, as Gwaine gave him a questioning look. He shrugged innocently, "What? I love that movie."

"It's one of his favorites!" Gwen smiled and laughed. "My husband, Rhys, got him hooked on it."

"Makes me wonder what would have happened to Morgana if we ever threw water on her." Gwaine chuckled.

Merlin laughed, "Well, there were a few times I did try to bring the house...or castle, as it were...down on her. We all saw how that  _didn't_  exactly work."

Guinevere began nervously biting the side of her thumb. "You don't think she's going to suddenly appear again, do you?"

"You keep chewing like that and you won't have a thumb left. Then, we'll have to call you Stubby." Mickey accused her, with a roll of his eyes. He had Merlin's laptop in front of him, attempting to work out the linguistics program for deciphering the files. He was only half paying attention to the conversation.

"What did you say?" The former queen asked, her brown eyes widening.

Leon stared at the young man, his mouth open. "Elyan?" He whispered.

Mickey blinked and looked around at the others, all staring at him. "What?"

Guinevere wasn't able to respond. She licked her lips, and blinked away a few glistening tears. The young man was not her brother. She knew that, but how he could have known something so personal, she couldn't fathom.

"Her brother, Elyan, used to say that to her. He and I were good friends when we were young. He was with me, when I was being tutored for swordplay one day, and Guinevere was perhaps seven or eight. She stopped by to watch and became concerned I was going to injure him."

Guinevere brushed back her dark curls and smiled softly at Mickey. "For the next two weeks, both Leon and Elyan saw fit to call me nothing but 'Stubby.'"

"Until your father caught wind of it and gave us both a good ars...uh...chewing out." A chuckle was shared at the memory.

"'Worn-out garments are shed by the body. Worn out bodies are shed by the dweller. Within the body; new bodies are donned by the dweller, like garments.'"[4] He said, paraphrasing a quote he had learned years before. "Every life there is something new, something needed, something to learn." Merlin's voice permeated the room with the wisdom of his words.

"That was beautiful, Merlin." Arthur commented with a straight face, which soon twisted into something resembling confusion. True to form, the king had to break the peace that had descended upon them. "What the hell does it mean?"

The room burst into laughter. Merlin shook his head and groaned, "It means, that it is possible Mickey here, was Elyan in a former life."

Arthur gave the dark man a crooked, disbelieving smirk, that was more of a grimace.

"Wait, that means I was a knight in a former life? That is wicked cool! Mickey Smith, Defender of Earth, Knight of the Round Table, and all around Tin-Dog."[5]

"Tin-Dog?" Gwaine questioned.

Jack and Martha groaned in unison, "Don't ask!"

"So...how does that wisdom apply to those of us who can't die?" Jack asked, curious.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

Jack whined, "Oh, come on! This is getting old, Merlin. I haven't even made one pass at you today. I've been a good boy."

"It's not your sexuality I have a problem with. It's your bloody name." Merlin stated in exasperation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The leader of Torchwood asked.

"It's not yours!" Taking a breath, Merlin sank down on a settee next to Martha. "I was a pilot for the RAF in World War II. One of my assignments, early on, was working with the American volunteers out of Cardiff. I knew the real Captain Jack Harkness. He was a friend and fellow pilot, and I was also friends with his girlfriend. I never saw him so happy as the night you danced with him...Then, the next day he was shot down. Afterwards, I found out that someone had taken his name..." The warlock waved his hand at Jack accusingly.

Jack looked truly stunned, upon hearing this. He hung his head and nodded his understanding. When he first came to Earth, in the 1940's...after escaping custody and fleeing his own fifty-first century life with the Time Agency...he had taken the name of a deceased serviceman as part of his con to exploit alien technology to the highest bidder. He then met the Doctor, a Time Lord, who saved his life. Later, during his travels with the Doctor, and his companion at the time, Rose Tyler...who had been Mickey's girlfriend one time...Jack died. Rose, in an attempt to save the Doctor, touched the heart of the Time Vortex within the TARDIS. The energy she sent out also brought Jack back to life...with an unexpected side effect. He was no longer able to permanently die. [6]

After an error in a time jump, and Jack found himself stuck in 1869. By 1899, he had begun coming to terms with his immortality. He was propositioned by Torchwood, to either be used as an experiment, so they could discover the nature of his condition, or to work with them. Although he didn't agree with their methods, he decided it was better to work with them and change things from the inside. He had now spent over a full century at Torchwood Three.  _"A fixed point in time..."_ Is what the Doctor called him after that.

More recently, another skip through time took Jack back to 1941, where he finally met the man whose name he borrowed [7].

"So you see, it's got nothing to do with what you are, or what you prefer. It's the name." Merlin explained, "Petty and childish, I know...especially having lived for so long myself...but he was a friend."

"Speaking of World War II..." Gwaine sat forward and grabbed another beer off the table, trying to ease the tension between the two men. "Pops wanted me to tell you...well, your 'grandfather'...'Thanks.'"

"For what?" Merlin asked, curious.

Gwaine told his grandfather's story, about his experience of getting lost, after the D-Day Invasion of Normandy. The rest listened with rapt attention.

Merlin chuckled, "I don't even really remember that. I recall being shot down and I had quite a concussion from the crash. I couldn't tell you who it was who found me. For most of the trek out of there, I was focused on using my magic to NOT heal me, so I didn't scare whoever it was who found me."

"That is so very you, Merlin. Even on death's door, you always think of others first." Guinevere reached forward and squeezed his hand. "I remember speaking with Lancelot, before he sacrificed himself to stop the Dorocha. It wasn't long after the Round Table was formed. I was thanking him for coming back when we needed him, to help retake Camelot from Morgana. He said something rather odd, about how there was someone who deserved recognition more than he...someone else who Arthur should have knighted that evening in the ancient castle. I knew, after Camlann, it was you."

Sighing, Arthur shook his head. He gave Merlin a pointed look. "If I had a kingdom or a sword...I believe I would do just that." Before his words could settle, he asked, "How do you guys do it?"

"What do you mean?" Merlin questioned.

"How have the three of you lived for so long, and not gone stark raving mad?" Arthur asked.

Jack, Leon, and Merlin all looked at each other. "I think, it's been different for each of us...especially since I haven't lived as long as these two." Jack finally answered, "Not giving up hope, and surrounding yourself with people who accept you." He met the eyes of each member of Torchwood, including Martha in his glance.

"Having a purpose." Leon said softly. "Each time I felt I was on the verge of losing that hope, an old friend would show up, and help guide me back."

"Finding love. Even though I know I will outlive them each and every time...it hurts, but it's worth it." Merlin squeezed his wife's hand.[8]

They all sat in silence, contemplating the words of the three men.

"What purpose are you talking about?" Percival asked Leon.

The ancient knight smiled. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow of a figure he knew all too well, grinning from a darkened doorway. "I'll be back in a minute, and I'll show you." Leon announced softly.

Gwaine snorted, as he watched Leon disappear in the teleportation beam. Unsure of how the reunion would have played out, Leon had left the sword in the secret hold inside his spaceship. "I need to ask him, if he can help transport Pops' body to Wyoming for the burial." He said suddenly, reality coming back to him.

"I've got a friend with a plane I can borrow, to get us all over there...if you don't mind us all crashing the party. It might be a bit more believable than teleporting your grandfather, especially since I don't think Leon would want to be known by the SGC, or any of the other organizations out there."

Smiling, Gwaine thanked his friend. "That would be great." The roguish man turned to Percival. "Think we can get you on a plane, if Merlin's flying it?"

The large man's eyes widened and he gulped. He looked at Merlin. "You would be controlling it?"

Merlin laughed, "Yes, I would, and we'd all be there for you. Neither Arthur nor Guinevere have flown either, so you'll have each other's fear to feed off of..." He glanced at the floor, a foul look on his face, and reconsidered his words. "...maybe that wouldn't be such a good thing."

"I can always give you a mild sedative, if we need it." Martha offered.

The blue, glowing light from the transporter reappeared in the room. Leon materialized in front of their eyes, and in his hands was a long, cloth-wrapped item. With a serious countenance, the knight stepped towards Arthur, who stood, eyeing the object with curiosity. Leon knelt before his king, and presented Arthur with the item.

His hands trembled, as he removed the cloth. Gold and steel glittered under the artificial lighting. Arthur's breath was stolen away when he realized what it was. "My sword..."

"You bloody wanker!" Merlin spouted at the knight. "All those years I spent searching for it, and you had it?! The nerve!"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said automatically, the laughter bubbling through his words.

Leon stood up with a throaty chuckle and shrugged nonchalantly at Merlin.

The warlock huffed indignantly. "You could have at least told me, and we could have worked together on this part of things." He stood up and walked over to a painting, grumbling under his breath about his plans being messed up and the right timing for things. Pulling the large frame of the painting aside, he revealed a safe, hidden in the panel behind it. He unlocked it with a code and his thumb scan, and withdrew a scroll. Moving back to Arthur he pointed it towards Leon accusingly, knowing the king's eyes were following it. "Seriously, it would have been nice to have a heads up about the damned sword."

The king reached for the scroll, not understanding what it was, but his curiosity was burning. Merlin pulled it upwards, away from Arthur's hand suddenly. "One condition." He stated firmly, turning towards the king. He lowered the scroll and Arthur tried to take it again. Merlin moved it out of reach. "My room, is still my room. You don't touch it, you don't change it."

The rolled parchment came down again, and the king stretched out his hand to receive it, only to have it moved away a third time. "Two conditions! I get to keep the garage with my cars."

"What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?" The game was frustrating Arthur, as Merlin mimicked his own movements a fourth time.

"Three conditions! You are not allowed to drive them..."

"Bloody hell!" Gwen laughed, everyone in the room was curious about the contents of the scroll. "Just give it to him already. Enough with the Spanish Inquisition!"[9]

A chorus of voices permeated the room. "...Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!"

Merlin was caught up in the laughter and missed Arthur's arm wrapping around his neck in a choke hold. He fought to keep the scroll away from the king, unsuccessfully, as they fought each other. It was obvious, to Arthur at least, that Merlin allowed him to eventually win the scuffle.

With the scroll firmly in his grasp, he unrolled it. The king's eyes widened as he scanned it. "Merlin...this is...?" He found himself unable to finish.

"The deed to the estate...Your estate, Arthur. Camelot...well, what is left of it...is yours."

He couldn't speak. Arthur was completely flabbergasted by the gesture. Fighting against the overwhelming flood of emotion, he grabbed Merlin and drew him into a tight hug. Merlin lost his own composure and returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

Pushing his friend back, he ordered, "On your knees, Merlin."

The warlock looked ready to protest, "Arthur, you really..."

"Will you just shut up and humor me!"

With a wry grin, Merlin finally complied.

Arthur took his sword and began to bring it down.

"FOUR conditions!"

"Good grief, Merlin! What now?"

"You don't touch anything in the old vaults, without asking me first."

"What old vaults?"

"Oh, just the ones that were under the castle that your father kept all the treasure in. There's still some magical stuff down there, and I don't need to have you come back from near death, only to have you do something...like release the goblin...who's probably rather pissed that I still haven't let him out..."[10]

Guinevere squealed, "The goblin is still there?"

"Yeah, unless he died, which I highly doubt. 'Creature of magic' and all that...Nasty little buggers, they are...kind of like fairies."

The members of Torchwood gave a collective groan. Gwen's nose wrinkled, "Those things are vicious! I hope ne'er to see another one. Stealing away poor children, and all that."[11]

"You've seen a fairy?" Merlin asked, turning towards her.

Arthur's thought process was caught a step behind the rest of the conversation. "The vaults are still intact?"

"Uh...yep." Merlin responded cheekily.

Arthur released a heavy breath and shook his head. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Can't think of anything offhand, Sire." Merlin chirped.

"Good, then let me do this quickly, before I change my mind." He raised the sword and brought it down on Merlin's shoulder. "For all you have done, my friend, there are no words to express how grateful I am to you. The guidance you gave me. The friendship you shared. Everything you did for my kingdom, even if it went against your very nature and beliefs. You stood strong at my side, and your belief in me was more than I was ever worthy of. I dub thee, Sir Merlin, Knight of Camelot."

The sword passed over Merlin's head on the last words and he looked up at his king. His vision glazed over with unshed tears. The golden runes etched on the blade shimmered, and drew Merlin's sight in a hypnotic dance.

He gasped. The ceremony of knighthood was immediately pushed to the back of his mind, as he finally realized a piece to pattern of the language on the computer file. "Take me up. Cast me away..." He breathed, "Arthur, may I see your sword?"

The king was taken aback by the sudden change. He floundered for a second, before coming to the conclusion that his friend hadn't really changed as much as he had thought. "This is why I never knighted you in the first place! You realize that? It wasn't because I didn't want to, but I knew you couldn't sit still long enough for it, and that was a short ceremony. Just for...Oh...forget it." He threw up his left hand in defeat and held the sword out, amidst nervous chuckles from the rest.

Merlin nearly swooned when his palm touched the hilt. A tidal wave of warmth and power flowed through him. It fed into a fire that was nearly ash, deep inside his being, stoking it to life with a simple breath.

Arthur's eyes narrowed in concern, he glanced at his wife for confirmation. The way she sat forward and chewed on her bottom lip, told him that she saw it as well. "Are you alright?"

He felt absolutely giddy from the magic in the blade. For so long, he had nearly forgotten what dragon's magic felt like. The empty abyss that he had admitted to Martha about, was still there, but it seemed to be placated for the time being...no longer the seeping wound it had recently become. A twittering giggle escaped him. "Yeah. Yes...better than I have been in a long, long time. Mickey...the language in the translation...don't worry about most of it. It's probably just gibberish, meant to deter anyone trying to comprehend it. Focus on the bits containing runes like these..."

He pointed to the embossed runes. "Take me up. Cast me away. It's the dragon language. This is the only time I have ever seen it."

Mickey shrugged and began revising his program.

"Well, that makes sense, since there aren't any dragons anymore, right?" Gwaine snickered.

Merlin bit his tongue and shifted nervously.

The room was shrouded in anxious silence.

"Um..."

Arthur began to feel impatient. "You are the son of a Dragon Lord, and are one yourself...so you claim. Merlin...is there still a dragon?"

Before Merlin could respond, Mickey shouted, "It worked!...What the hell is a 'Furling?'"

"Alien race." Gwaine answered, "They've been extinct for a long time."

"Well, I don't know about extinct, but there certainly aren't any who are known to be in this galaxy." Leon offered. When Gwaine's eyebrow rose in curiosity, he explained more. "I've spent time with the Asgard. Around the beginning of the Alliance of the Four, Furlings were included among them."

"Yeah. Ancients, Asgard, Nox, and Furlings. Humans, or Tau'ri...as the rest of the galaxy knows us by...are supposed to be 'The Fifth Race.'"

"We know the Alterans reached a form of Ascension, and became known as the Ancients. I never thought to ask about any of the other races, although I knew the Nox's teachings had something to do with the druids of this land."

"We've had dealings with the Nox...nice people...a little leafy. No one has any idea what the Furlings look like, but a few of the people back at the SGC think they must have been furry...kind of like the Ewoks in Star Wars. FUR-ling." [12]

"Cute!" Jack commented sarcastically. "I'm guessing pretty deadly too, as that seems to be the norm for that type."

"It's true. The cuter they are, the nastier they seem to behave." Gwen said, with a chuckle.

Merlin let out with a raucous laugh that started the group. "Martha, do you remember that daily quote, email site thing you signed me up for a while back? One of the first ones they sent me, reminded me of when I called Aithusa from the egg."

She nodded, trying to follow the different lines of conversation erupting. "I think so, love. You seem to enjoy those sort of things."

Deadly serious blue eyes fell on the warlock, and he shifted under the gaze of his king. "Merlin...are there any dragons left?" His voice carried through the din, and a hush fell over them all. Those who hadn't known Arthur during the height of his reign, felt his kingly presence fill the room. They began to truly grasp why he was a legend.

"Honestly...I don't know."

"How could you not know?" His voice dripped with disbelief.

Martha moved to stand beside her husband. She took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. "I think it's time I get to hear that story you keep avoiding."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, thankful as always for her calm strength. "Perhaps it is..."

"What the...You sly dog!" Jack's voice called out from where he stood, near the fireplace mantle. He turned towards Merlin with an arrogant smirk, while picking up a hinged shadow box. It held a red and white ribbon, with a blue and gold four-point star below it. Next to that on the box, was a larger silver star with the same gold center. Below that, was a small rectangular ribbon of purple, with a red stripe running vertically through the center. On the other side of the hinge, was an embossed certificate.

Merlin cringed, as Jack began reading the highlights of the certificate out loud. "Sir Merlin Emrys, Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire."

"Something you neglected to tell me, Merlin?" Arthur asked. His arms were crossed and the look on his face reminded the warlock of the familiar feeling...just prior to finding himself either mucking out the stables, or thrown in the stocks.

"Uh...Oops?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally balked against the idea of using the Furling race mentioned in Stargate, because of the implications in the show about them being furry (fur-ling) but then as the story progressed I came across something talking about sails being stowed...I began looking at the word in a different manner 'furl-ing' and finally did a face palm.
> 
> furl fərl/ verb
> 
> roll or fold up and secure neatly (a flag, sail, umbrella, or other piece of fabric).
> 
> "he shouted to the crew to furl sails"
> 
> Footnotes:(yes there were quite a few in this chapter. With so many people and so much going on, I didn't want to disrupt the flow by adding in every detail of each. So here are the references to them.)
> 
> 1\. Merlin episode 1x1 The same actress, Eve Miles, who played Lady Helen plays Gwen in Torchwood.
> 
> 2\. Eve played the character Gwyneth in the Doctor Who episode (The Unquiet Dead)... And played Gwen in Journey's End. A joke was made by the Doctor and Rose on how Gwen of Torchwood resembled someone they knew in the 19th century.
> 
> 3\. HoC Chat inspired LOL and I just had to add in the idea of the knights playing paintball...I know some of you wanted a whole, half-naked sparing session, but this seemed like so much more fun and gave them a chance to bond.
> 
> 4\. Paraphrased translation from the Bhagavad Gita on reincarnation
> 
> 5\. Reference to Doctor Who Episode 2x3 'School Reunion' Although neither Jack nor Martha were in that, I figured they probably heard stories about it. (an ep guest starring Anthony Head)
> 
> 6\. Doctor Who ep 'The Parting of Ways'
> 
> 7\. Torchwood Ep Reference 1x12 'Captain Jack Harkness'
> 
> 8\. Based on an interesting quote from one of the Torchwood writers, John Fay, on Jack's immortality: "In my mind, I was always aware that Jack had gone through this situation many times before, and that was really interesting to me. How do you have a relationship and fall in love with someone when you know - absolutely know - you will be around to see them die?"
> 
> 9\. Yes, a bit of Monty Python slipping in.
> 
> 10\. Ref to Merlin ep 'Goblin's Gold'
> 
> 11\. Another Torchwood episode reference. 'Small Worlds'
> 
> 12\. Stargate episode 'Wormhole X-treme' reference.


	10. Chapter 10

 

Dark stained, wooden bookshelves lined every wall, except the one covered with glass panes on the north. This allowed for natural light to filter into the room during the day, without getting the problematic direct sunlight that could ruin the books. Although wanting to hear about dragons, Jack's observation of the decorations on Merlin's mantle had successfully sidetracked Arthur's thoughts. He had demanded to know more about the man he had just knighted...even if the ceremony had been abrupt, and didn't involve the complete recitation of vows to the king.

Merlin had sighed and began with that tale instead, privately thankful that he could avoid the heartache of bringing up the little dragon for at least a few more hours.

It wasn't long after the end of World War II, when Merlin received an invitation to dine with the king. He had thought seriously about declining, but he was a bit arrogant about his ability to be able to fool people into thinking he was the son of the man from the first war. King George VI wasn't so easily fooled...especially since he had served alongside Merlin, during the merger of the Royal Navy Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps into what became the Royal Air Force in 1918. Afterwards, they had seen each other on occasion as Merlin took up work designing and building aircraft, eventually going into ownership of the factory as well.

That was, until the late 1930's. With a new war on the horizon, Merlin faked his death. He had aged himself since the late 19th century and had appeared to be in his late fifties. No one questioned when his son, a gangly young man of eighteen appeared for the funeral. The boy's mother was a French National, and old Merlin said he had met her during his service, while stationed in France. Reluctant to leave her family, they never married, but Merlin had been sending money to support his estranged girlfriend and their child, and occasionally went to visit.

The 'son' was brought into the folds of his father's business and adapted to it quickly, before he decided to follow in his father's footsteps and joined the RAF at the start of the war with Nazi Germany.

The king had laughed as they enjoyed an after dinner port together, celebrating the end to the war and younger Merlin's plans for his father's factory. Bertie, as he was known among those who knew the king before he inherited the throne, turned to Merlin, and accused the 'twenty-eight-year-old', of lying.

Merlin nearly choked on his port, as the king began to list off various points of Merlin's past.

In 1879, after an incident at Torchwood Manor involving alien DNA and werewolves, Queen Victoria had established the Torchwood Institute as a way to study and keep tabs on oddities...mostly The Doctor.[1] As their mission broadened, it started to include more anomalies found in and about the U.K. Somewhere along the way, Merlin had come into their sights, and a file had been started on the man who kept reappearing in history, from time to time.

It wasn't until Bertie had met the young son of the man he had known during a tour of the Royal Forces, that the king suspected anything. After a bit of badgering, Merlin finally gave in. He told King George VI who he really was.

They met many times after that, when scheduling would permit. Merlin recounted to the king, and his daughter, who was brought in on the secret, stories from his life. In 1948, Merlin knelt in front of the king and was granted the honors of knighthood. Although...as Merlin pointed out to his friends...the knights of the twentieth century held little resemblance to those of the sixth.

The decorations on the mantle, and the honor of adding the letters 'KBE' to the end of his name, were pretty much all it entailed.

"Originally, I could go to State dinners and the meeting,s and such...but those got boring after a while, and I got tired of aging myself." He groaned as a thought occurred to him. "I am probably going to have to call Lilibet at some point, about all of this."

"Lilibet?" Jack questioned with unconcealed surprise. "You're on a nickname basis with Her Majesty?"

A crooked smile, filled with feigned innocence, contorted Merlin's face as he turned to Jack and asked in a simple, and humble tone. "Yes...aren't you?"

The leader of Torchwood snickered and held out his hand. He was amazed to finally learn so much about the man, and he hoped now, that the warlock had been able to voice his irritation about Jack out loud, they could begin to work past it. "You are too much, Merlin! As much as we would like to stay and hear more stories, I promised Rhys I would have Gwen home before she turns into a pumpkin." His smile widened when Merlin, after seeing his wife's look, accepted his handshake.

Everyone shared a warm farewell, as three of the five members of Torchwood Three headed outside, and began the drive back towards Cardiff.

Mickey had moved from the chair he was on with the laptop, over to the ornate desk with Merlin's main computer. He explained briefly, that although the translation program was running, it needed the higher computing power to smooth out some of the finer details. Everyone else began settling in, as well.

Coming back in, Merlin moved to a stack of shelves along the far wall. A wood and lead box resting on one of the highest shelves, slid off and floated down into his waiting hand. Coming back to the center of the room, Merlin sat next to Martha on the main settee that was directly across was the fireplace. With a whispered word from the warlock, the fireplace roared to life.

Merlin's impish grin was contagious. The glow from his eyes appeared to linger, as the flames reflected in his blue orbs. An expectant hush settled over the remaining people in the library of the manor. He sat the box on his knee and again, seemingly without hesitation or worry, used his magic in front of them all.

Guinevere and Leon didn't appear to even bat an eye. The years they had spent with Merlin, after Camlann, had allowed them to become familiar with Merlin's magic. Gwaine stretched out on the floor and smirked, enjoying the spectacle, while Mickey and Percival...used to weirdness from working with Torchwood...nodded in appreciation. Martha smiled. She had known of his magic, and seen him use it...although never quite so effortlessly as he did now. Whether it was because of the sword, the friends, or something else, she didn't know. It gave her a sense of peace though, to see his worries from the night before, put to rest.

Arthur stood nearby and watched his friend with a mixture of fascination and fear. He kept his lips sealed tightly, and tried to be patient and observe. He was still unused to the casual way in which Merlin used magic, and waited to see if he would waiver.

The box glowed with an aura of golden dust and the latch unlocked with a click. Merlin's face fell when he saw the item inside. A flood of memories assailed him. Carefully, he plucked the item from the box and held it up.

Arthur's eyes widened and Guinevere gasped, "Morgana's bracelet..."

Merlin nodded, setting the box aside. He fingered the silver and gold cuff. "It was one hundred years exactly, after I laid you, Arthur, to rest in the boat, and sent your body to Avalon." He told Arthur. "...The last time I summoned Aithusa, and one of the darkest times I had ever known...even worse than when I thought you died..."

"Why is that?" Gwaine asked with interest. While he didn't wish make his friend relive the emotions of the past, he wanted to know more about the man and what he had been through.

"I'd already lost Mithian...about fifty years earlier...Gawain fell in battle a few years before his mother died...with no child of his own left behind. Blasine was gone...Her children grown, and their children...I allowed myself to be hopeful that Arthur would return, but the way the world had begun to change around me...it frightened me. If you were to have returned then...what would there be left for you?" Crystal blue eyes darkened into midnight pools, clouded with history.

"By the time night fell, and the moon began to rise, I summoned Aithusa...the white dragon. Nearly all creatures of magic, by then, had either died or..." He shrugged, not knowing how to explain how or why the magic disappeared. "Within the first five years of his life...I had summoned him only twice, and sent him away three times...I was rather uneducated in how it was all supposed to work, and the only advice I received from Kilgharrah, was to let Aithusa grow and experience things on his own.

"Aithusa wanted nothing to do with me, though, because I was responsible for Morgana's death. I had tried to make amends...tried to heal him over the passing years, but my normal magic didn't work on dragons. I never understood why...

"He still refused to speak to me, and I didn't wish to command him to, but I had a feeling that night...I would never see him again."

The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Each man and woman focused on their own internal thoughts.

Finally, Merlin seemed to gather his thoughts together and spoke again. "A few days later, I decided enough was enough. I went to find his cave, but Aithusa was gone. The only thing of value left, was this." He said, holding up the bracelet.

"Morgana loved her...I remember that, now..." Guinevere stated in a soft voice.

"Him." Merlin corrected.

"No...her."

"When Aithusa was hatched, Kilgharrah said I named HIM after the Light of the Sun, in the Dragon Tongue."

Guinevere smiled patronizingly, "I distinctly remember Morgana referring to the dragon as a 'her.'"

"Well, did you or Morgana ever actually look under the tail to find out?" He asked sarcastically.

Shooting back, with an equal amount of snark, Guinevere asked, "Did you?"

Mickey snickered from the desk. "You're both wrong...and right. Dragons are hermaphroditic."

"How the hell do you know?" Arthur questioned, amused by the young man's timing.

"...Because it says so. Right here." The dark-skinned man pointed to the computer screen, with a triumphant smile.

* * *

 

Merlin shifted restlessly in the bed, trying to be careful to not wake his wife. His mind was reeling with all the information that had come through. Mickey's program was doing its job. However, for the amount of information contained in the file, he admitted he would like to set up a larger computer, and even with that, it could still take a while to decrypt all of it. Once Merlin had gotten over the shock that he may finally learn about his heritage as a Dragon Lord, the conversation had moved on. That Mickey had found that one translation so quickly during the debate over Aithusa's gender, had been a fluke.

Leon had explained about the Cup of Life and what Heimdall had told him of it being an alien technology. Merlin stored the information away in his mind for later, and listened as both Leon and Gwaine began describing more about the Ori and their Priors. The Virus now had a cure, but that didn't mean the Priors were out of the fight...not by a long shot.

_"Their staves are rather intriguing." Leon said at one point. "I could swear I'd seen something similar, somewhere before..." The knight began describing the dark wood, with the odd blue stone set at the top._

_Something inside of Merlin's memory had given a tickle to his subconscious. He had quickly dismissed it at the time. He began flipping through the Book of Origin that the two men had brought with them, hoping something in it would help draw the memory forward, but he found his concentration lapsing._

_When they all finally had decided to turn in for the night, about the only thing that had been decided, was to help Gwaine with his grandfather's funeral...the rest could be left until after that._

A warm presence pressed against the skin on his back, and a shapely arm wrapped around his chest...fingers tracing across the muscles of his abdomen. He felt the trail of kisses across his shoulder blades and turned his face to meet his wife's lips. He lifted his arm, and invited her into his embrace.

Martha snuggled down into her husband's arms, her face resting in the hollow of his shoulder. "You are thinking too loud, my love."

Merlin chuckled apologetically. He nuzzled against the top of her head, pulling her closer to him. He inhaled deeply the smell of her hair, enjoying the scent of the flowery essence left behind by her shampoo.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you so alive, as just after you touched the sword. I've watched you use magic, and lately I've been a bit concerned with how you were handling it. Then, after that, it was like it was as natural as breathing for you." She turned her face towards his, resting her chin on his chest. "Did it work?"

"Did what work?" He asked, meeting her eyes.

"Did whatever magic was on there, heal the hole inside that you've been worried about?"

"No..." He finally confessed. Inside, he felt the emptiness that had plagued him for centuries still there. "Something in the sword, was like...a drug, almost. It gave me a rush, and halted the pain, but I can already feel it beginning to wane." Merlin smiled and recalled the sensation of his hand touching the hilt. "It didn't seem to start growing to a consciously noticeable level until recently. I thought when Arthur returned it would heal...but that is when I began to feel it more..."

"That was also around the time these Priors began showing up in the galaxy...Could it also have something to do with that other sword piece, the one that nearly killed Arthur?"

Raising his eyebrows, Merlin focused on the ceiling above him. He thought about both things she mentioned. The Priors and the Sword..."Why would you think one has to do with the other?"

"I've seen enough of how time and the universe works, to know that there is very little that is actual coincidence."

"Even us?"

"Would it bother you if it wasn't?"

"No...no. You are probably the most amazing person destiny has ever brought into my life." He admitted. After a pause, he asked, "What would you think...if I could find a way to keep you with me?"

She sat up to look him square in the eyes. "What do you mean?"

He squirmed under her gaze. "Nothing...forget about it."

"No...You don't just get to say something like that, then tell me to forget about it."

He pursed his lips, wondering if he should tell her one of the things that had been on his mind all night. "I love you." He looked deep into her eyes as he said the words, trying to convey just how much she really meant to him. "I loved Mithian with all my heart, as I did Ning...and many others through the years. You are the first one though, who truly gets me. I can't explain how amazing you are to me, Martha...and even though I try my damnedest not to think about the future...I still do. I don't know what is going to happen to me when I lose you."

"That's still a ways off though, right?" She said, her voice shaking. "Merlin...what's wrong? I've never heard you speak quite like this."

Sighing, he shook his head. "What Leon said...about the properties of the Cup, and what it can do..."

Martha gasped. The look he saw on her face told him that she had put the pieces together. Although she meant it as a question, what she said came out as a statement. "You know where the Cup of Life is."

The crooked, and less than innocent, upturn of his lips confirmed her suspicions. "Isn't there supposed to be a price for using it?"

Merlin shrugged, "Perhaps, but maybe that was the way it was used. I really don't know." He took a deep breath and asked her sincerely. "Think about it, though...please."

* * *

 

A call from Laney had Gwaine hitching a ride with Leon back to the States the next day. His grandfather's body was being released for burial. Merlin put in a call to a friend, and by that evening, Percival was standing at the bottom of a narrow set of stairs, looking upwards into an oval-shaped hole on the side of an aircraft.

Mickey was staying behind to work on the computer thing. Gwen and her son had already climbed onboard the metal monstrosity, with Martha. Cassie was also riding with them back to her home in Colorado. Merlin had been bouncing in and out of the thing, checking to make sure it was ready. That left just him and Arthur, staring up at the unnatural beast.

Clearing his throat, Arthur patted Percival's shoulder. "We should probably go in there."

"Of course, Sire. After you..."

"No...that's quite alright. You can go first."

Percival's face was white as a sheet. He didn't want to argue with his king, but he also did not want to be confined in something so frightening.

Merlin popped his head out of the door. "Oy! Will you two just get your arses in here?! We've got about seven hours over the Atlantic, then another four 'til we reach Colorado. I would like to get in the air as soon as possible."

"How can you be so sure this thing is safe, Merlin?" Arthur asked, trying to maintain an authoritative tone.

Peeling the sunglasses off his face, Merlin made a smacking sound with his lips. "Probably because I've designed more than a few of these during my time, and also, I was flying before most anyone else on this planet...granted, it was only a few times on the back of a dragon...but that's besides the point. I understand how the science behind this all works. Now, will you both just get in here? Gwaine is waiting for us."

The two sixth century warriors looked at each other, holding their breaths. Percival finally released his with a defeated sigh. He placed his feet, one in front of the other, and cautiously made his way up the steps. He sensed Arthur behind him, but resolved to himself to not look back. He had faced many things in this new world, and came out just fine. He knew he was able to do this.

The inside was roomier than he had expected, although he did have to duck slightly to avoid hitting the ceiling. Merlin called this vehicle a Gulfstream, although the name meant little to him. He took a seat near Martha, while Arthur sat across from him, next to his wife.

They watched as Merlin sealed and locked the door. He appeared completely at home, surrounded by the streamlined aircraft. The warlock came over and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "It really will be just fine, Percival. I'm a pretty good pilot." His calm and self-assured presence helped the large knight to feel a little more at ease.

Martha grinned, "He is definitely much better at flying, than he is at driving."

Percival chuckled at the outrageous look on Merlin's face. "Buckle in. I'll get us in the air soon. Hey Arthur, want to join me in the cockpit?"

Blue eyes widened; Arthur looked nervously at the others.

"I would invite Percival, but I'm not sure..."

"I would love to join you, Merlin." Guinevere said suddenly. Aurie was already buckled into a travel seat, and was sound asleep. "Martha...would you mind watching him?"

"Not at all."

Arthur sputtered and started to argue, and much to his dismay, was completely ignored as his best friend escorted Guinevere forward to the cockpit.

* * *

 

Guinevere strapped in with Merlin's help, and sat up straight in the seat. She was careful not to tap the floor pedals with her feet, nor touch anything around her. Her hands stayed folded neatly in her lap. Merlin sat next to her, securing himself and placing large cup-like things over his ears. A thin, bendable, tube came down in front of his mouth. He pointed to her right elbow and she saw a similar contraption. Fitting the thick strap over her head, she was a bit startled when she heard Merlin's voice through the headset.

"You get a front row seat here. Once the guys figure it out, they might get a bit jealous. I think you're going to love it, though."

She smiled, and took a pair of sunglasses, when he offered them.

"We're going to be seeing the sunset from the air, so you might need those."

In between each sentence, it felt like a vacuum over her ears, when all sound suddenly ceased.

"I'm going to start it up, and talk to the Control Tower to get us airborne."

She nodded and watched him skillfully flip various switches, and push colorful buttons. It was truly amazing how simple he managed to make his movements seem. He flicked another switch and began speaking to an unseen man. Most of his words sounded like some odd sort of language. She felt her heart stop with the initial whine of the engines firing up. Her stomach lurched a little, when the whole world outside the window began to move...It took her a moment to realize she was the one moving.

Merlin glanced over at her and pushed a button. "Are you ok? Not going to get sick on me or anything, are you?"

The former queen swallowed down her fear and shook her head. She was determined to enjoy this opportunity. "I will be fine."

He switched back to speaking with the disembodied voice. The airplane turned and faced down a long stretch of tarmac. Merlin sent another look over at Gwen, who smiled and took a deep breath. She watched the world beginning to rush by. Faster and faster...she felt gravity pressing her back into her seat. She had a fleeting thought, wondering how her son was faring, but then decided that Aurie was more than likely still asleep. Her husband, on the other hand...Well, she hoped Martha and Cassie were able to manage.

A soft scream of excitement erupted, as the plane lifted off the ground and began its ascent toward the clouds. She squealed again, when they punched through the cloud. It was almost like going through a thick fog bank...except, instead of contrasting shadows from trees or buildings, it was accented by brief pockets of light and of blue sky.

Levelling out after a while, she looked out the window below to a white ground, that resembled the softest snow she could have ever imagined. Ahead and all around was clear, blue sky.

"That will never get old." Merlin chuckled, sitting back and unbuckling his harness.

Gwen was left in breathless agreement. "I can see why you like it."

"Shall we go back and check on the others?"

Shaking her head, Gwen was still watching the clouds in complete fascination. After a few moments, she asked, "Can they hear us?"

"Nope. It's just you and me up here. Why? Are you planning to take advantage of me?...Because I don't think my wife would like that very much." He winked at his friend.

She laughed, "No. Actually, I was hoping to speak with you."

He waited for her to continue.

"It's about the swords." She started absentmindedly playing with her harness strap. "Arthur told me about how you made his out of the one I gave you."

"Ah...yeah, about that..."

"Merlin, it's alright. I'm not upset or anything, but I did wonder...and I haven't mentioned this to him...about the other one. I remember when I was on the island, and the man was taking Aurie and myself to his workroom...I think I saw it on his table. I remember wondering why he would have it."

"Martha's right...there are too many damn coincidences...and not a single one of them makes any sense."

She reached across the center console, in the tight space of the cockpit, and took his hand. "Anything I can do to help, you know I will, Merlin. We all will. I know you believe that we are here for Arthur, but you're wrong. After all I have seen and heard...I think we're here for  _you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Doctor Who episode 2x2 "Tooth and Claw"


	11. Chapter 11

The pen scratched across the paper and reverberated off the clipboard underneath. A deep breath was exhaled loudly. Gwaine blinked back the moisture that had yet to fall from his eyes. He couldn't cry...not yet. There were still too many things left to do.

_Laney had been taking care of the worst part of it all...calling everyone...from the local Legion back up in Wyoming, which was Pops' favorite hangout before they moved, to dealing with the nearby Veteran Affairs to get the benefits in order. There were some specific individuals she had to call, and out of that list, she discovered at least two or three who were no longer around._

_Groaning into her hands, she had grumbled, just before Gwaine left the house to go sign the transfer orders. "Getting old sucks!"_

_Leon was standing nearby and had snickered at the comment. Gwaine laughed as his friend was promptly was hit in the face with a flying kitchen towel._

Gwaine bit back a grin, recalling the banter that had erupted between the two over the aging versus immortality issue. He finished with the form, and handed it back to the man waiting next to a transport gurney.

"Everything looks in order, Major Dallon. I'm sorry for your loss." He said politely.

Gwaine nodded and watched as the rolling bed with the black body bag was placed in a waiting hearse. Once it had pulled away, heading to a mortuary his sister had chosen, he released another sigh. He still needed to make sure all the permits were in order for Pops to be buried on the ranch. Thankfully, Merlin's solution of using his borrowed plane was going to save a lot of hassle.

"Major Dallon, wait up!" He heard a feminine voice call out.

Gwaine turned and had to smile as the dark-haired doctor came jogging up to him.

"Hey, I tried to call you... You didn't answer your phone."

His eyes widened slightly. "Did you call from the Base?"

"Yes...Ah ha, you were avoiding anything to do with work." She concluded.

"Pretty much." He motioned towards the main parking lot, inviting her to join him for the walk.

"Well, you might be interested to know, Calden put in for his retirement early." Carolyn informed him as they went along.

Gwaine shook his head and let a sour chuckle escape his lips. "Well, there goes the only one on my team I can stand."

The hissing through her teeth, told him there was more news. He looked at her expectantly.

"After all the personnel changes on the team...incidents that took place before you were assigned to SG-18, Reeves is now facing an Officer Board Hearing...and Summer has been transferred to Area 51...security detail."

"Ouch!" Although Gwaine tried to sound disappointed, he obviously wasn't saddened or surprised by her news. "So...my sister may be right on the me getting 'fired.'"

Carolyn snickered, "Actually, both Colonel Mitchell and Colonel Reynolds of SG-3 have requested you."

He stopped and gave her a suspicious look. "You're serious? I mean, I knew about Mitchell...but Reynolds as well?"

"Yeah, one of his team members will be going on paternity leave with his wife soon. He'd like you to...at least temporarily...fill the spot."

Aside from SG-1, SG-3 had always been the other team that nearly all new recruits to the Base dreamed of being placed on. It also had one of the highest casualty rates, as they were involved in nearly every front line skirmish, and were called upon for battle zone extractions of other teams. The leadership had changed often through the years. The first commander was a Marine named Colonel Makepeace, who was part of the original team to go through the Stargate to Abydos, under Colonel Jack O'Neill, before the actual inception of the modern Stargate program.

Reynolds, the current commander, was a stand up guy. Although, Gwaine didn't know him very well personally, he had seen enough to recognize that he wouldn't have the same command issues he did with Reeves.

"That might be a good idea." Gwaine admitted, as they reached the Scout. The corner of his mouth lifted, "Are you working all day?"

"No, I get out of here in a couple of hours.

"Just thinking...maybe I could buy you that drink this evening?"

She nodded and smiled, "Sounds good. I'll give you a call when I get off."

* * *

 

"...I appreciate you taking the boys for few days." Laney said into the phone. She was surprised and grateful that her ex-husband was being so helpful with the situation. "We're planning on having the services up at the ranch on Saturday...if you could meet us up there with the kids..."

While listening, she jotted down a few notes on a tablet of yellow paper. She glanced up at the tall blond man and rolled her eyes, silently venting her frustrations. As per usual for her ex-husband, what started out well, turned sour as the conversation continued, "Can you at least have them back here by Thursday, then? Would that be too much to ask of you?"

"I don't care what she thinks. They aren't her kids! They will be going to Boyd's funeral with us, even if I have to send a Strike Force after you.

"...Fine. You want to deal with my brother when he's pissed off, then it's your own ass. I would hate for my kids to lose their father, but ya know...accidents happen."

"...Yeah, okay. I'll see you on Thursday. Thanks." She hung up the phone, and folded herself over her arms on the table with a groan.

Strong hands came to rest firmly on her shoulders. Laney moaned in approval as they started to knead against the hardened knots. Feeling his face close to hers, she stiffened slightly.

"I know plenty of techniques to help with stress relief." His accented voice was husky and seductive.

"I'm sure you do, but I'm really not in a position to want anything that might resemble something like a relationship."

His thumbs rubbed circles on her shoulder blades. "Who said anything about a relationship? I'm simply offering a way to relax, as two consenting adults."

"No strings attached?" Her eyebrow rose, intrigued.

"None at all." His breath was hot and moist, close to her earlobe.

She tipped her head to the side, as he swept her hair off her neck and kissed her pulse. It had been years since she had been with a man, and although she barely knew Leon, what he was offering was extremely tempting...until she heard the front door open. Snapping back to herself, she was thankful that Leon also had the decency to move away, just before her brother came into the kitchen.

"Hey, how was your date?" Laney asked, focusing on the list in front of her of things that still needed taking care of.

"Good..." Gwaine paused. She could see his eyes narrowing, as he looked back and forth, between her and Leon. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah...other than my ex being a jackass."

"Uh huh..." He stared at Leon for a moment, before turning away and shaking his head. "Got a call from Merlin, when they got to New York. They were going to grab some dinner while the plane was getting refueled, then head on out this way. He said they'd just get a hotel after they land, and call us tomorrow for breakfast, or lunch, or something. But, it's all in order, for him to use the plane to transport Pops and us."

Laney breathed a sigh of relief and drew a line through one of the items on the paper.

"You sure you're okay, sis?" She shifted slightly, as his chocolate brown eyes bore into her expectantly.

"Fine." She said with a complete air of innocence. "I may have to have you guys go all Special Forces to make sure the kids make it to the service with us...but we'll wait until Thursday to determine that."

"Alright..." Laney was able to tell he wasn't fully sold, but he was going to let it slide for the time being. "I'm going to go grab a shower and hit the sack." He sent one last suspicious glance between his sister and his friend, before heading towards the stairs.

Laney released a breath and turned towards Leon. "Thanks...I dated one of his friends in college and it didn't turn out well. Since then, he's been rather overprotective of the boundary between me and his buddies."

Leon shrugged, a smirk played across his face. "Anytime you wish to continue, just let me know."

Her eyes sparkled, she felt like a teenager plotting to sneak around behind her parents back. "Oh, trust me, Spaceboy, I will...Have no worries about that. But...my kids can NOT know. The last thing I need is for Randy to go running to his dad, squealing something like...'Mom's dating a space pirate!'...Or some such shit."

* * *

 

Sweat poured off his body. His shirt clung to his upper body like a second skin. The practice sword in his hand took a few moments to initially adjust to, but once he did, the movements came naturally. After essentially weeks of not training due to his injury after Camlann and the fact that they remained constantly busy since he was healed, Arthur was feeling the strain.

Gwaine's friend, Cameron Mitchell, had come over to see if Gwaine needed anything. He was surprised to see Arthur not only there, but up and about in general. He had made an offhanded comment about their first meeting, and that in turn had become a verbal sparring match. Arthur, feeling no small amount of frustration, finally challenged the Air Force Colonel to a rematch.

Daniel Jackson, who had come along, shook his head and muttered an 'I told you so,' when Arthur successfully laid Cameron flat on his back on the dry Colorado soil.

Gwaine couldn't resist the opportunity to refer to his long time friend as a damsel, and decided to offer his own challenge to save his buddy's honor.

Loud, ear-splitting music poured from speakers facing out through open windows. Percival commented on how the noise was something he might never get used to...Gwaine had argued that the 'noise' was called Rock-n-Roll. The large, blond knight shook his head and Merlin offered to put on different music. Pursing his lips, and sharing a glance with Leon, Percival wasn't sure which was worse. The stuff that Merlin played was just as incomprehensible as the Rock, but was called Dubstep...or something like that. Either way, he was certain his ears would never heal.

The aroma of cooking meat wafted from the nearby grill. Laney and Merlin argued over the best method to cook the strips of beef and bone. At the same time, the warlock was carrying on a second conversation with Dr. Jackson. Merlin tried to wrap his mind around the alien twists of his own legend.

Gwen found herself hissing and wincing with each blow, instinctively fearful of seeing her husband potentially getting injured. Martha's hand was aching from her friend squeezing it with each clash. Aurie bounced at the bottom of the steps, obviously enjoying the sounds and atmosphere.

Leon roared with laughter, watching his friends execute the dance of steel and sinew. He clapped Percival on the shoulder, when Gwaine and Arthur, evenly matched, finally decided to call a truce. The two tall men took their turn at sparring. It felt like a piece of home for Percival, after the many months of trying to adjust to this new world.

"Who's the blond guy with the curls?" Cameron asked Gwaine, as he passed his friend a cold beer.

"Leon?" Gwaine questioned.

"Well, yeah. You told me his name, but where'd he come from?"

"Long story." Was all that Gwaine offered, "I'll tell ya later. Right now, just know, he's one of us and I trust him...maybe more than I trust you." He added with a teasing smirk.

"Ouch, dude!" Cameron shoved Gwaine's shoulder, and the two were soon wrestling like young boys.

Laney began yelling and scolding them both; threatening to turn on the hose. Merlin snickered and rolled his eyes.

"You think you can do better?" Arthur asked his friend.

Merlin simply shrugged and didn't answer, trying to obviously stay out of the horseplay and fighting.

The former king wasn't about to let the man off so easy. "No, seriously, Merlin, do you?" He said, adding emphasis on the first syllable of his friend's name.

The rest of the group began to pause and turn towards the two men, as Arthur's voice carried clearly across the yard.

"Arthur...I really..."

Holding up his hand to stop any excuses. "What? Are you still too much of a girl to fight, Merlin? I can understand how, without your magic, you might not be able to hold your own."

Merlin scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I seemed to do just fine with the Paintball the other day."

"Ah, but Leon was with you, and he's been trained since childhood on how to properly handle weapons, and fight in close combat."

"Arthur, Merlin held his own..." Leon began to explain, but was cut off by a look from Arthur. The knight had witnessed, more than the others, the stealth and grace with which Merlin had moved through the forest that day. He realized, however, that Arthur obviously had seen it as well, and was baiting the dark-haired warlock.

"Even without my magic, you lot wouldn't stand a chance."

Arthur crowed, full of arrogance. "Is that so? Well, then _this..._ I need to see."

Merlin held up his hands. He knew Arthur was trying to push him into a corner. "That's alright, I really don't want to..."

"...to what...get hurt...show us how much of a pansy you are? Come on, Merrl-lin...Prove to me you're not the little girl anymore." Arthur had a brief inkling that he might have pushed a bit too far, when he barely heard Martha mutter an expression of 'Oh, dear God' behind him.

"Will it seriously make you happy, to see me take you all down?" There was no arrogance in his voice. Merlin's question was asked as a simple matter of fact.

Arthur forced a smile, his challenge filling his eyes, staring into those of his best friend. He then felt his breath freeze in his throat, when Merlin's eyes darkened and narrowed. There was a sudden stillness surrounding them, almost as if the entire Earth was holding its breath, waiting for Merlin's response.

The warlock finally nodded slowly, almost more of a bow of acceptance. "I won't use any magic." He set down his drink, and took off his shoes and socks.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and glanced at the other men. "You realize one of us might step on your bare toes?"

Merlin simply shrugged and made his way, calmly, out into the center of the yard. "You guys can all use swords or sticks, or whatever you can find."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'm still horrible with a sword." Merlin made a disgusted face. "Now, a bare-fisted, hand-to-hand style against opponents with weapons...that's another story."

"How long did you say you lived in the Far East?" Gwaine asked warily.

Merlin paused to think about it, while casually unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up past his elbows. "...About eighty years in Shanghai. Another few decades after that, in a Shao-lin Monastery near the Tibetan border. Why?"

"Oh, frack...We are all sooooo bloody dead!" The roguish man roared.

Arthur swallowed against a hard lump in his throat. Gwaine's words, accompanied by the know-it-all smirk from Dr. Jackson, left him questioning his own motives. Cameron's following statement left him with a chill, unlike any the former king had ever known. Arthur may not have understood the reference, but the meaning was utterly clear.

"He is gonna skadoosh all our asses into oblivion..."[1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Kung Fu Panda (just couldn't help myself LOL)


	12. Chapter 12

Over the years, and throughout his galactic travels, Leon had seen many warrior races. He'd lived and hidden out with a few from time to time. Some were rather primitive, others had technological advances went far beyond that of the Tau'ri. He was able to see the qualities of many of them in his old friend.

The sense of peace that exuded from Merlin was akin to that he felt whenever Lancelot visited him. Many times, he had tried to find that calm within himself. It was a quality he had once thought he possessed, back in the days of Camelot.

Camelot...He felt the weight of a ring, kept on a chain around his neck; his only personal possession of his past that held any meaning. It had once belonged to his wife. She was a comely little thing, from a noble Scottish family. As part of an arranged marriage, it was good for both families, and the kingdom. Bridgette was young, having seen perhaps only seventeen summers when she was brought to Camelot, but she was well-trained by her mother to be a good housekeeper. Her auburn hair and startling, forest green eyes had captured his fancy immediately.

Fascinated by each other in the early days of their marriage, it was a blissful honeymoon time at first, which neither had expected. He would ride out on patrol and return to his beautiful new wife, waiting for him with a warm meal and soft bed. Then, one day, he entered their home to find her weeping over a pot of stew in the fire. When he broached the subject, she had flown into a tantrum, cursing everything from the lack of thickening in the stew to his frequent absences. A few months later, and his fiery-haired wife gave him his first son.

Two more children and many years later, their love for each other as a family had grown in some ways, and cooled in others. Leon's duties, when Arthur became king, had grown, as did his time away from his family.

After Arthur was struck down in Camlann, their lives became even more separated. Leon was the highest ranking noble on the Queen's Council, and he rarely saw his family. Instead, he spent more time with Guinevere and her son, than with his own. Faithful to the Crown, Leon had been raised to know that duty to the kingdom came before all else.

His fourth child, a daughter, was still a tiny infant, barely a month old, when the Plague came. Leon had only held her a handful of times. He cursed himself, for not being able to even recall her name, and sometimes it seemed he had forgotten about her completely.

All that transpired, those last few years in Camelot, had left deep scars in his heart. Watching the queen and prince float off into the mist was the breaking point. Leon built a solid wall around his emotions. He volunteered in Nemeth for the worst of the battlefronts, in the furthest of places. While he and Merlin had grown close as friends in the two years following Camlann, he realized it was their mutual fondness for Guinevere that brought them together.

Merlin had begun moving on with his own life in the neighboring kingdom; marrying and settling down, being granted his title and position which he honestly, in Leon's opinion, should have been given in the days of Camelot, had it not been for Uther's laws. It intrigued him, how the raven-haired warlock, born outside of Camelot's borders, was able to cope with the losses, whereas Leon was not.

He never understood why he didn't die, until Lancelot appeared to him and presented him with the quest, hinting at things to come. Leon was terrified when he was first brought onto the alien vessel and met Heimdall. She became his mentor in all things beyond the world he knew, and the closest thing he considered to a friend, beside the Ascended form of Lancelot. Yet, even with those two, he kept himself walled off and somewhat aloof.

The ancient knight envied Merlin. Where the warlock had found peace, Leon had found only turmoil over the centuries. Nearly everything he was, he locked away. He still managed to find enjoyment in parts of his life, but it was usually temporary. He found his eyes drifting towards Laney and stopped himself.

He never stayed in one place long enough to build a connection with another being. He was a galactic drifter, and outwardly proud of it. The few times he had considered settling for a while, were always ripped out of his grasp by someone or something. Danger was attracted to him. He knew it was partly due to the sword he had carried.

It was a powerful item, and the only thing, other than the ring, that he felt any semblance of emotion for. The sword was a link to what could have been the greatest kingdom ever known. He wondered how it would play out in a world and galaxy, so changed from what they used to be. Right now, it sat in a vault safe that Merlin had built; protected not only against mundane threats, but also magical ones. The thought made him uneasy. His constant companion over the centuries, was no longer his.

He stood back a bit from the fray and watched how Merlin effortlessly took on his opponents...disarming them within the first minute. The others soon gave up on weapons, choosing to simply try and take him down, by whatever means necessary.

Gwaine and Cameron attempted to team up on Merlin...very unsuccessfully...as Merlin sank to the ground and rolled out from between them. Percival and Arthur thought they spied an opening. Merlin had his back to the porch and the four men, their eyes glinting with mischief, knew they had him cornered.

...Until Merlin grabbed the rail behind him and used the leverage to run up Percival's large torso, flipping himself up on the small ledge.

"You're not joining in?" Dr. Jackson asked Leon. The knight knew the other man was trying to figure him out.

They watched the lanky warlock vault into an airborne somersault off the porch rail, landing on his feet behind the four intrepid friends, and dashing off.

Leon snickered, "Oh, I will. Just waiting patiently for the right moment. He did say any weapon, correct?"

Daniel's eyes shifted suspiciously towards Leon. "Something to that effect..."

It was quite obvious Merlin could have easily taken all four men out early on, but he seemed to be having fun toying with them. Percival finally managed to wrap his arms around the thinner man from behind. The others descended on him, assuming he was trapped.

When Laney called out that dinner was ready, that was all the incentive Merlin needed to put an end to the mock battle.

Four warriors laid sprawled out in the dirt within seconds.

"Hey, Merlin!" Leon called out.

The smirking warlock turned towards the one knight, who had stayed out of the fray. A bolt of electricity shot through the air and caught him off guard...square in the chest...before he even registered that Leon was holding something similar to a gun in his hand.

Merlin fell to his knees, reeling from the shock of the alien weapon. He reached out and placed his hands on the ground in front of him, and took a few deep breaths trying to stop the ringing in his head.

The other four men had finally regained their own footing, aching and bruised from the fight. They glanced nervously between Leon and Merlin.

It took a few moments before Merlin shook his head and looked up at Leon, a question in his eyes.

The blond knight shrugged, "You said 'whatever we could find' weapon-wise."

The warlock grinned through the tingling in his body and began to laugh. Years of working with UNIT should have prepared him for such a thing, but he had been careless around his old friends, and it was a good reminder. "Indeed I did. Next time, I will be more careful with my words." The sparkle in his stormy blue eyes silently promised Leon just that.

* * *

 

Cold beers, and the Colorado sunset lent to the ambiance surrounding the friendly, after dinner atmosphere on the back porch. A cool breeze wafted down off the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies. A cold front was supposed to be headed their way, and Merlin hoped it would hold off for a few more days. As much as he loved flying...flying in a winter storm was not something he cared to do, especially with those he considered his family on board.

"Way to go all Indiana Jones on him, dude!" Cameron commented to Leon, as they sat around, nursing various bruises from the fight with Merlin.

Leon smiled his thanks at Cameron, but made no inclination that he understood the reference.

The colonel shifted in his chair. "You're not from around here." Cameron stated. He shared a look with Daniel, before casting an accusatory glance at Gwaine.

Up close, the archaeologist had noticed that the weapon Leon had held, appeared to be similar to a Particle Magnum which he'd only seen used by an alien member of the Atlantis Base...Certainly not a firearm of Earth origin...nor from the Milky Way Galaxy, for that matter.

"I never said he was!" Gwaine said defensively.

"Oh! Gwen, you have to come and see this!" Martha called out excitedly from the living room.

Laney had, unbeknownst to any of the men, pulled out her phone and recorded the whole fight digitally. The two women were busy setting up the TV to display the video.

Gwen, and most of the others, moved inside to the living room to watch the playback. Merlin shook his head and chuckled, not making any move from the Adirondack chair. He was able to tell by the way Daniel Jackson lingered behind the others, that the archeologist wanted to discuss something. He motioned to the seat next to him.

Daniel sat down with a smile. "Have you been able to take a look at that file? There's a lot more where that came from, and I have to admit the translation hasn't been our top priority...with everything that's going on. General Landry and I decided to keep it in-house, partly out of respect for you guys, and also as per the agreement that Guinevere bartered for."

The warlock snorted, "She has always been a very shrewd and thorough negotiator." Merlin shook his head, and released a breath in a sigh. Part of him wanted to keep what little information he had gained to himself, but he realized the Daniel would probably be one of the few who could truly appreciate the knowledge. "Gwaine told me you don't have much on a race called the Furlings."

"Uh...no. We know they are one of the..."

Merlin cut him off. "Yes, I know about the Alliance and all that, not just from Gwaine, but other sources as well."

Daniel took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. "I see...Well, none of the languages on those files even resembled the Furling language."

"How do you know the 'Furling' language you have seen, is the actual language of that race?"

Shrugging, he put the glasses back on and stared at Merlin, waiting for him to elaborate.

"First thing you should know, these Furlings...didn't have any fur."

The archaeologist laughed, "Yeah, that was a rather bad joke that just hasn't gone away. But, we think we found some skeletal remains a couple years ago, basic humanoid in structure, with only a few minor differences. The native people on the planet said their ancestors had been protected by the Furlings."

"Well, I doubt what you found was a true Furling. Tell me, Dr. Jackson...do you believe in dragons?"

"Uh...Is that a trick question?"

"No, actually, it's not. Once I realized that all the fluctuations were misleading, and which set of gibberish in that file was the real language, my friend, Mickey, was able to set up a filter and begin a translation program, night before last. From what little has been translated so far...Furlings got their name, or the translation of it...from furling and unfurling their wings, like great sails on a ship."

"How did he find a cypher for the baseline?" The linguist side of him was truly intrigued.

"It was a language I know. The language of the Dragons."

Daniel's face appeared strained with disbelief. "...And you know that...how?"

A shadow of emotion fell across Merlin's face. His voice took on a deep, mysterious quality. "I am the last Dragon Lord."

"I see..." Daniel's skeptical nature kept his enthusiasm in check, but he hoped that Merlin would elaborate.

"When I return home, I hope to be able to sit down and actually read through it all." He then began explaining to Daniel about his father and Kilgharrah...and how, because of the timing and circumstances...he really had no clue about his own heritage.

"You'll have to keep me apprised of what you learn. Do you think that it is why your...abilities...reacted with the radiation from the sword shrapnel?"

"I do."

"That is really interesting. When Sam was studying the piece, she found it gave off a sound frequency, too. On a hunch, Sam and Dr. Lee recently developed a device that emits a frequency...almost identical to the sword...that actually interferes with the powers of the Priors. Mitchell and I got to have some fun on the Sodan homeworld with that one."[1]

Merlin thought about it for a moment. "One of the main properties of the dragon-forged blade was to be able to kill something that was already dead." He purposely neglected telling Daniel about Arthur's sword.

"Well, our theory is that while not exactly dead, the Priors aren't fully alive anymore."

"Like a shade?"

"A 'shade'..." Daniel rolled his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. "...partly from the ancient Hebrew the term 'tsalmaveth,' which literally meant 'death-shadow.' It was said, the Witch of Endor conjured the spirit of Samuel after his death, and he prophesied the downfall of Saul's army. There are references in Homer's Odyssey and Dante's Inferno about similar spirits residing in the Underworld. I have to admit, that is rather a fitting description for the Priors."

"There were some artifacts of the Old Religion that would allow people...namely High Priestesses...to summon the spirits. I had a friend once who was raised after his death. It was his body and mannerisms, but with only the memories the Priestess bestowed...quite like a shadow of himself. Another time, before that, a whole army was made seemingly immortal. No weapon made by man at the time could injure them, but when cut down with a blade forged by a dragon...Well, they kind of exploded." [2, 3]

"Ooh, hmm...The Priors, to try and prove a point, or to be punished for failure, end up bursting into flames." Daniel mulled over the information. "I don't suppose one of the, uh, 'artifacts' was a staff?"

"No...but, now that you bring it up, Gwaine did mention their staves to me." The tickle at Merlin's subconscious returned. "I don't suppose you have a picture or anything?"

Daniel pulled out a small notebook and scribbled on the page. "They look kind of like this."

Merlin's eyes widened. He snatched the paper from Daniel and rushed inside. "Leon!" He called out. "Do you possibly recall that little tart Arthur tried to run off with and marry?"

The blond knight broke off from his conversation with Percival. His eyebrows dipped, trying to bring up the memories.

"You mean that Sophia girl?" Gwen asked, overhearing the question.

Merlin nodded, chiding himself for forgetting that she had been there more recently than either him or Leon. He held up the drawing. "Tell me, does this look familiar?"

She moved closer and looked at it. Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes widened, "Yes. Both she and her father had staves just like that!"

"I do not remember that..." Arthur grumbled defensively. From his tone, Merlin suspected the former king was lying.

"Of course not, you prat. You were too busy being bespelled by Sophia and trying to drown yourself...literally..." His voice raised and took on a flighty quality, accompanied by Merlin batting his eyelashes. "...for her love." [4]

Placing a hand on her husband's arm, Gwen prevented him from throwing anything at Merlin. "Morgana had a dream about that. It scared her nearly to death."

Leon chuckled, "I remember that now." He turned to Arthur. "Your father was not happy when you declared your love for her. I always wondered what happened to those two. They just seemed to disappear, as suddenly as they had arrived." He turned to Merlin with an accusatory stare.

Merlin grinned widely. "Well, after that, I found myself in possession of a staff...nearly identical to that...but without the symbol on the side. Sophia and her father were Sidhe, a type of malicious fairy. They had been banished from Avalon and were using Arthur as a sacrifice to try and get back to their people.

"The Sidhe really had it in for the Pendragons, though I never knew exactly why...They even had one of their own possess another princess, when she was a babe, in hopes that Arthur would marry her and then they would have control of the future Queen of Camelot." [5]

"Wow, they really didn't like you." Gwaine laughed, clapping Arthur roughly on the back, eliciting a grunt of annoyance.

"When we head back home, after Boyd's funeral on Saturday, I'll start looking into it more and let you know what I find out." Merlin said, turning back to Daniel. "Although, I'm not sure any of the Sidhe even exist anymore, but if they do...maybe I can finally get some answers...now that I have a better idea what questions I need to ask. I think this staff might be the connection I needed to start putting this puzzle together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Stargate: SG-1 episode 9x10 "The Fourth Horseman, Part 1" Here is a vid of that rather amusing scene. watch?v=54XGQ6ZXxf8
> 
> [2-5] Various Merlin episodes 4x9, 3x13, 1x7, 3x6


	13. Chapter 13

"Ah-Ten-Hu!" A man in uniform called out, acting as herald of some sort. Gwaine had called him the Detail Leader.

Everyone stood, as eight men...three young, five older...took up positions alongside the coffin as it was unloaded from the long, black car. Across the top was draped the starred and striped flag, that Arthur had come to know as the one Gwaine followed. The coffin was carefully placed atop a deep hole, surrounded by an odd carpet that resembled green grass. It was held in place by two wide straps that crossed the pit.

There were so many men and women in a variety of uniforms. Merlin almost looked like someone else entirely, in the olive green coat and pants. The warlock had proven beyond any shadow of a doubt, that even without magic he was, as Arthur suspected, a true warrior. At Gwaine's place in Colorado, he'd single-handedly taken them all on, and had barely broken a sweat. After which, Arthur had made Merlin swear to begin teaching him.

Cameron Mitchell wore a dark blue uniform with a white hat. Next to him stood Gwaine; his coat was an even darker blue that it almost appeared black, and contrasted with the brighter blue of his pants, that sported a red stripe down the outside seam. On his head was a hat...or cover as they called it...of the same pristine, white cloth and shining black brim. They stood straight-backed and tall. When they saluted, with their white gloved hands, Arthur noticed a variation between Merlin and the others, that he resolved to himself to ask about later.

Older men, obviously retired from military service, wore a different style of clothing, similar to the suit that was bought for him, but with odd, thin hats, decorated with patches. Surrounding the grave were also a lot of more rugged-appearing men and women, who seemed to clash with the neatly pressed uniforms, but yet looked quite at home on the windswept, Wyoming prairie.

Once the casket was secured, Gwaine, Merlin and Cameron, along with the five older men, stepped back and stood at attention, while the loud man barked out another sound that everyone, except Arthur, seemed to understand. Off a little way from the gravesite stood a line of men, as still as statues, until the order was given. In precise, synchronized movements, the Honor Guard lifted their rifles and aimed at the sky.

Another set of orders boomed out, and they fired. Puffs of smoke issued from the barrels. The orders were repeated, and the shots rang out. Then, yet again, a third time. Arthur recalled Gwaine speaking to someone about the ceremony. The three volleys fired were part of a tradition that went back a few centuries, originally meant to signify a ceasefire so that combatants of a war could take time to gather their fallen comrades.

The men snapped back into formation. A few moments later, his heart still beating rapidly from the blasts of gunpowder, he heard the sound of a solitary bugle cut through the air, playing a mournful composition.

Guinevere clung tightly to Arthur's arm. Her eyes glistened with tears. Arthur felt a pang of regret, that he had never met the man they all were there for. Although different in structure and protocol from the funeral of a knight in Camelot, the feeling in the air was the same as everyone gathered to pay their respects to the recently deceased.

Mitchell and another uniformed man stepped forward, once the tribute was over. The director of the funeral asked everyone to be seated. Mitchell and the other man lifted the flag from the casket and skillfully began folding it together, until it formed a triangle. Three shell casings from the rifle volleys were placed inside the folds. Mitchell released the flag to the other man, who handed it off ceremoniously to the Detail Leader, who had called out the orders. It was then given to Gwaine's sister, accompanied by words of condolence.

Arthur's mind drifted back through time, to when his father had died, and countless knights he had fought with, that had fallen. Each death had been honored with men in chainmail and scarlet capes standing in formation, paying their respects, along with many other finely dressed nobles. The way these modern military men moved, the posture they maintained...the formality of it all was stunning and awe inspiring.

The ceremony continued with somber words, before the casket was lowered into the ground. At the conclusion of the funeral, Arthur's heart jumped when a couple of the 'cowboys,' as Gwaine had called them, suddenly drew out small, hand-held versions of the rifles, and began shooting them into the air randomly...hooting and hollering as they did. He glanced at Gwen, who stared at the wildmen with wide eyes. "I remember Gwaine said he was worried this would happen. I guess these guys were part of some 'Old West' club with his grandfather."

He heard Laney groan and begin to curse, when her two youngest boys brought out toy versions of the pistols, and started snapping them off.

From then on, the somber ceremony devolved into more of a party atmosphere, celebrating the long life of an ornery, old cowboy and soldier.


End file.
